


Thistle

by thisismk



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art School, Cute Han Jisung | Han, Eventual Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Graduate School, Han Jisung | Han & Lee Felix are Best Friends, Heavy Angst, Hwang Hyunjin & Kim Seungmin are Best Friends, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Music, M/M, Moving On, Partying, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, blondesung, how slow can i make this burn, side changlix, side minmin, this is my favorite thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismk/pseuds/thisismk
Summary: “Did you ever stop to think that maybe all this aggression is just, like, pent-up sexual frustration or something?”Jisung looked horrified. “Oh my god, no!”Felix looked unconvinced. “You were the one who drew the chilli pepper next to Number 27 in the customer codebook-”“I add peppers next to all the cute patrons,” Jisung crossed his arms, indignant. “But that was before I found out he was a nosy person with no concept of privacy. His pepper is hereby revoked.”✩ ✩ ✩Or; the one where Hyunjin is an art student working on his MFA, struggling with a creative block. When he stumbles across a mysterious notebook that gives him new inspiration, his world is turned upside down by an aspiring musician with a mysterious past. Jisung promised himself he would never open up again, but something about the boy with paint stains on his jeans makes him think that there could be more to life than working in a coffee shop. Sometimes the only way to move on from pain is to love, and the only way to find true art is to create it with someone new.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 156
Kudos: 670
Collections: drop everything and read this





	1. welcome to keopi kong

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading thistle!  
> the playlist for this fic is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06cAfr3ib2Dr3Hf3jGxesP?si=w4cNkEaTQ7S3RlcqMH60LA), and the visuals for the fic can be found [here](https://twitter.com/this_is_mk_/status/1228384778619060229?s=20) !
> 
> is
> 
> Each chapter will have a corresponding song or two that I listened to while writing. I’ll be making a Spotify playlist for your convenience if you like to listen along while you read. The first chapter’s songs are “Nothing” by Lee Gikwang and “The Other Side” by Axel Mansoor. 
> 
> I'm hoping to update chapters every two weeks or so- please let me know what you’re liking and I can’t wait for the story to unfold! :)

The coffee shop was quieter than he had anticipated at this point in the day. Hyunjin knew from experience that early afternoon is when the college crowd would usually hit for a caffeine pick-me-up before prepping for evening classes, but the warm room was scarce save for the three baristas behind the counter and two girls furiously highlighting their textbooks at the corner table. Keopi Kong was his favorite of the cafes he used to rotate between on lazy afternoons, but now that he was in his first semester of graduate school he found himself typically only coming in the early morning.

What would usually be a few minutes of waiting behind the morning rush was an easy stroll up to the closest employee, and he felt lucky that he was a creature of habit that rarely strayed from his typical order now that his usual buffer time for decision-making was gone. The barista’s bright eyes followed his movement toward the counter, and he said with pep, “Your usual today sir?”

Hyunjin looked up from where he was already pulling some bills from his wallet to make eye contact with the employee, who seemed much too similar in age to be calling him “sir”. He hadn’t realized that other people had picked up on his routine, and was surprised to find that he had finally achieved his pocket-sized goal of becoming a “regular” at the shop down the street from his apartment. The guy was looking back and forth between him and a small notebook next to the register, but Hyunjin couldn’t make out the chicken scratch on the page. He was happy, though, that it only took a few weeks of coming in on Tuesday and Thursday mornings for people at the shop to know that he always ordered-

“A latte with two shots of espresso and one pump of vanilla, right?”

He smiled up at the barista, nodding twice and pushing the money forward. The guy shut the book, looking pleased with himself. “My coworker made us all a cheat sheet for the regulars,” the barista said with a small smile. “When you walked in, I assumed you were number 27- tall, dark, handsome, usually covered in some paint stains?”

Hyunjin fought the blush on his cheeks, but nodded. The barista had a nice smile, gentle, the kind that naturally reached up to his eyes. Hyunjin felt like he had seen him before, but was pretty sure he was not the guy who typically took his usual 6:45am orders. He felt like he would have remembered a face like that, but if he’s being honest with himself he barely remembers anything before 10am, so his time in the coffee shop these past few weeks had been a bit hazy. 

The guy’s name tag was on upside-down, and half of it was covered in what looked like whipped cream, but Hyunjin was able to make out the first letter and said, “Thank you, J”. The rest of his name would have to remain a mystery for now.

J gave him a small salute with his two forefingers and swept the money into his left hand, calling the order back to his two coworkers. One, a lanky blonde with a dusting of freckles, plucked the stainless steel portafilter and began to steam it for a new shot of espresso. The other, a young man with impressive biceps and a beanie pulled almost down to his eyebrows, didn’t even bother to look up from where he was arranging stacks of black reusable to-go mugs on the sale counter. His face was screwed up in concentration as he swapped cups from front to back, seemingly searching for the perfect aesthetic as he lined up the generic mugs in a pyramid formation.

Hyunjin hopped up onto a barstool while he waited for his order, looking around the room. The shop’s brick walls and warm lighting had been a refuge for him his last year of undergrad. He had spent countless hours here in the late afternoon, bits of gloss and clay speckled across his pants as he guzzled down coffee after coffee trying to stay awake and inspired. His taste for coffee had gotten significantly sweeter in graduate school (though he still went for an americano every now and then), and he wholeheartedly blamed his newfound sweet-tooth on Seungmin. 

“If you keep drinking three americanos a day, you’re going to go into cardiac arrest,” his friend had said to him, pulling him back from walking toward the counter for the upteenth time that day. The two had been “studying for finals”, which primarily consisted of Hyunjin sighing dramatically in between sketching and sipping on his coffee while Seungmin actually studied his notes. They had both been seniors, Hyunjin on track for acceptance to an MFA program at the university after graduation, while Seungmin had already gotten an offer from the neighboring university for their M.S. program in kinesiology and exercise science. While he was the only one of the two who had a concrete plan for the next two years, he was still pouring over his notes for his final exam, determined to retain as much information as possible on physical therapy exercises for patients in rehabilitation from ACL surgery.

“I _need_ coffee, Min,” Hyunjin whined. “Or I’m going to crash and this stupid project will never get turned in, and then I won’t get into the MFA program, and then-” he took a deep breath before rushing out, “I’ll fail out my senior year, and then my family will disown me, and then I’ll become homeless, and my bone structure’s far too superior to be sleeping on the streets covered in-”

“You wouldn’t be crashing if you weren't practically injecting caffeine into your veins,” Seungmin countered. Hyunjin dropped his head into the crook of his arm, defeated. 

“And stop spiralling, you’re not going to be homeless, you drama queen,” his friend said, highlighting another passage of his notes. “Your professor said she loved your progress with the last sketch, right? There’s no reason the final product won’t go over just as well.”

“But that’s the thing,” Hyunjin muttered, his words a little muffled by his arm. “Just because the sketch comes out well doesn’t mean the final piece will come out well, too. The primary sketch was only a third of the grade, the actual piece is the main portion.”

“Your pieces always look just like the sketches, Hyunjin,” Seungmin insisted. “When they don’t, it’s because they look even better. Just relax and trust your skills. You wouldn’t be top in the visual arts program if you sucked. You can’t have this kind of attitude when you’re in grad sch-”

“ _If_ I get in!” Hyunjin whisper-shouted. “We still don’t know.”

Seungmin simply rolled his eyes at that. “Your professor is the one who encouraged you to apply, helped you get your letters of recommendation, is best friends with the program director, and is also _on the decision board_. They all love your work, you’ll get in and then you and I will suffer through graduate school at the same time and try not to set our apartment on fire.” Seungmin paused, thoughtful. “Think of it like this- it’s just like you’re taking an extra two years in college, only you’ll get a brand new degree along with it.”

Hyunjin was frustrated to find that this did, in fact, calm him down significantly. “You’re right, Min. Sorry for snapping at you.”

Seungmin snorted. “It’s no problem, Hyunjin. Just do me a favor and try migrating toward coffee with a little less caffeine, maybe?”

“ _Less_ caffeine?” Hyunjin’s grip on his cold brew tightened. 

“I know you get tired of me talking about health stuff but I promise that cutting back on your coffee addiction may help your stress levels,” Seungmin said. “Here, try my latte- if you add in a shot of vanilla, it’s really good.”

“ _Order up_!” a voice boomed out, shaking Hyunjin from his thoughts. It was hard for him to believe that it had already been a year since he had been grumbling to his best friend about getting into the program that was now his daily life. He collected his flimsy paper to-go cup from the counter and smiled at the worker before heading for the door. “Have a good day!” he threw over his shoulder. He was out the door before he could hear if J gave him a response. 

✩ ✩ ✩

By closing time, Jisung was officially sick and tired of the smell of espresso. His cheeks hurt from smiling so intensely at the customers, and reading his manager’s shitty handwriting from the cheat sheet book all afternoon had given him a headache. The only bright spot of the day had been on lunch break, when Felix had guarded the back door while he and Changbin messed with the laptop that controlled the shop’s music. They had texted Chan a selfie with mischievous smiles, a thumbs up, and five more 3racha demos sprinkled into the store’s daily playlist. 

However much he enjoyed bopping to his own verse in _Hoodie Season_ while he took orders for overly sweet coffees, Jisung was getting really sick of his job. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the workplace atmosphere- after all, he got to work with some of his best friends. Some afternoons, when they had almost nobody in the cafe, he and Changbin would freestyle while Felix tried to dance along to their ridiculous lyrics. Those were some of his favorite days, when he got to let go a bit and express himself and not worry about the crippling anxiety that was his future. He tried to remember that, in some ways, the coffee shop was the only reason he had even graduated at all after his parents cut him off. So yes, he was grateful for the job, but being a barista wasn’t exactly raking in money. If he and Felix had to resort to convenience store food for dinner again that night, he thought he would explode. His arteries would, at the very least.

Sure, he had been supplementing his income by selling some of his tracks on the street, but even then he was barely making rent some months. He could hear his parents in the back of his head, reminding him that “ _Music will never pay the bills, Jisung!_ ”. 

Even in the noisy cafe he could hear the way his mother sighed, the sound of his father slamming the bedroom door shut. He could feel the afternoon sun coming in through the window in their kitchen on what should have been the first day of spring semester, junior year. The person he would usually call for support was, of course, no longer available. No, he wouldn’t think of that. Not now. 

Jisung could still remember his parents sitting him down at the table with angry eyes, insisiting that focusing on music as a career was idiotic. _“You having to take a semester off should prove to you that music isn’t your future, Jisung. Look at where it’s led you so far,”_ They told him over and over that semester, any chance they could, that taking a break from school could be his chance to change his path. When he eventually clawed his way back to himself and signed up for summer classes to catch up, his parents were frustrated that their nagging had not swayed him. Music was his lifeline, and that wasn’t something he would easily abandon.

But to hear every day that he was throwing his life away slowly ate away at him, and he had hoped that moving out after college would relieve some of that pressure pulling him down. He didn’t understand how his parents had been able to kick him while he was down, those few months a blur of anger and sadness greater than what his parents usually brought into their home. They didn’t understand why he was so broken up, but they didn’t really seem to care either. They just wanted him to drop music, take up something more _realistic_. He got out, eventually, but it seemed that in the quieter moments at work, the scent of strong espresso would bring him right back to sitting at the kitchen table while his father drank his coffee and shook his head at him in disappointment.

A group of teenage girls pushed their way inside the cafe, elevating the noise level and shaking him out of his pity party. As he prepared himself to make a thousand more seasonally-flavoured drinks, he decided to push away the voices in his head. His parents didn’t know him, they never had. And they didn’t know what he had dealt with to get so far. A few rough months wouldn’t change his mind about chasing his dream.

Felix’s shift had ended before his, so as the clock inched closer to 5PM, Jisung nudged Changbin in the arm.

“You coming over tonight to eat with me and Felix?” he asked. “I’m not sure we have much other than ramen, though.”

Changbin shook his head. “Sorry Ji, Chan wanted to cook tonight. Said we need more ‘roommate dates’ together since he doesn’t see me much now that he’s full time at the label.”

Jisung nooded, ferocious pride mixed with a small flare of jealousy rising in him. Ever since Chan had signed on as a producer full-time at Silver Stone Records, he knew that the two roommates didn’t get as much time together. After working a two year internship, Chan had been promoted to a full producer. Changbin was one year into the same internship program now, but two application rounds and Jisung still hadn’t been accepted yet. As much as he loved his friends and thrived on their success, he had to admit that part of him was still bitter he hadn’t gotten into the program the same year as Changbin. The first time, he admitted that he wasn’t ready, a college sophomore with passion but mediocre lyrics. The second time, however. . . that had been out of his hands. Jisung pushed the ugly memories down. 

“ _Just wait one more year,_ ” Chan had insisted. “ _Try again after you graduate_.”

Jisung fought back the rush of embarrassment that came every time he remembered how he had fallen behind, but his friends were too kind to ever bring up the reason behind it. Instead, they all pointed to the next opportunity, focusing on the future with zeal. He had been working hard in the past seven months, building his portfolio and attending more underground music events. He felt in his bones that this next application round would be his. 

As if he could read his mind, Changbin placed an arm on his shoulder. 

“We’ll _both_ get there, I promise,” he said with a small squeeze. “Your work will pay off one day. Just have faith.”

Jisung nodded, but his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. Thinking about his semester off had gotten him in one of his moods again and he just wanted to go home. He pulled the apron over his head, crumbling it into a ball as he stuffed it into his bag. He would definitely have to iron that tomorrow before his shift, but at this point he was so exhausted and so hungry that he didn’t care. That would be a problem for future Jisung. 

He slung the canvas bag over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye to his friend as he rushed out of the shop, hoping to catch the bus back to his and Felix’s apartment before rush hour hit. He was so focused on getting to the bus stop in time, he didn’t even notice that his bag was a little lighter than usual.

✩ ✩ ✩

The next morning, Hyunjin was back on his regular daybreak coffee schedule. He found himself disappointed to find that the blonde barista from the day before had not been working- _he probably only worked afternoons_ , he thought to himself. As the sun peeked through the trees, Hyunjin collected his regular caffeine fix and sauntered out of the shop to begin his walk to the university’s art studio. 

The first half of the day passed with little inspiration, and he was starting to get frustrated. He needed to work on a new project, but _zero_ ideas were coming to him. Usually, when he hit a creative block like this he would visit the dance studio, losing himself in movement for a few hours. However, he had tried that a few times last week and still nothing had come to him. It was like he had hit a brick wall. 

Hyunjin wiped the paint from his hands as best he could, and pulled his phone from his bag. It only took a ring or two before he heard Seungmin say, “Hello?”

“Hey, I’m going to go off campus to grab some lunch, do you want a coffee before your afternoon PT session?”

Hyunjin could practically hear Seungmin smiling through the phone. “ _God_ , yes please.” 

“Not God,” Hyunjin joked. “But I’m glad you have such reverence for me.” 

“Very funny. I have a new client today and my supervisor said I could run it solo since it’s not a major injury. I want to make a good first impression, but I’m so _tired_.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin sighed. “Staying up listening to a new album will do that to you.” 

“ _Book of Us: Entropy_ is a masterpiece and you know it,” Seungmin insisted. 

“Of course, I could hear it through the wall all night,” Hyunjin chuckled as he began walking across campus. “What kind of injury is it, that they’re letting you run it solo?”

“You know I can’t violate HIPPA, Jin, what kind of professional would I be? Privacy is a major issue in the medical community,” he huffed. After a beat of silence, he whispered, “But hypothetically, maybe coffee is the magic ingredient to a successful ankle rehabilitation?”

Hyunjin snorted. “One latte for the ankle angel, coming right up.”

As Hyunjin headed off campus, he couldn’t help but think of how proud he was of his roommate. He and Seungmin had been friends since they were young, both coming from a small town without much to do outside of school activities. They were an unlikely pair, Hyunjin the president of their art club while Seungmin was a student athlete, the star pitcher for the baseball team. 

The unlikely pair met in a sixth grade english class, introducing themselves to each other with their english names before collapsing in a fit of giggles. From then on, they were inseparable. Hyunjin would cheer on his friend at every baseball game, and Seungmin kept one of Hyunjin’s first pottery pieces in his locker, a small pencil holder that leaned far too much to the left, and would proudly show it off to anyone who walked by. Years of shitty cafeteria lunches and study sessions and weekend sleepovers had built a strong brotherhood that Hyunjin wouldn’t trade for anything. They felt unstoppable.

Then, junior year of high school, Seungmin tore his rotator cuff. 

It was devastating for him to hear that he couldn’t play baseball anymore, especially since he had planned on going to a university specifically for their stellar athletic program. Hyunjin had been Seungmin’s rock throughout the transition from athlete to a “civilian” as Seungmin had dramatically put it on a particularly bad day. Hyunjin drove him to his physical therapy sessions, and it was after one of these meetings that Seungmin first brought up the idea of studying kinesiology. 

He threw himself into his studies, asking his own physical therapist questions about what kind of classes to take in college, and ended up accepting a scholarship to Seoul National University to join their pre-med program. As luck (or hours of research and a meticulous application portfolio) would have it, Hyunjin was also accepted to SNU and immediately jumped into their art scene. College was difficult, but the two had braved it together. 

Hyunjin was proud of Seungmin working as a PT assistant, but he knew that the work was exhausting. Getting him a coffee was the least that he could do. And if he ran into the cute boy again… that would just be a coincidence, right? 

After grabbing a bento box from the corner store for lunch, Hyunjin walked over to the cafe for the second time that day. A quick peek inside confirmed his fear that mystery barista was not working at all that day, but he stood by his promise of caffeine for Seungmin so he walked inside anyways. He was so focused on pulling his credit card out of his wallet that he didn’t pay very much attention to where he was walking. At least, not until he suddenly felt a splash of cold liquid run down his chest.

“Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry!”

Hyunjin looked up, making eye contact with a pair of wide, panicked eyes. A boy with freckles was frantically trying to wipe off the iced coffee he had spilled all over Hyunjin’s white shirt, making little progress. 

“No, I should have been looking where I was walking.” Hyunjin said, eyeing the growing wet spot on his chest. He would definitely have to use a stain remover on that. Did they have stain remover at the apartment? Maybe Jeongin had some at his dorm, he was the more fashionable one. 

“Still, I’m sorry you ended up in the splash zone,” The boy said. “Here, we have some extra shirts in the back if you want. They have our logo on it, but at least they’re dry.” 

Hyunjin offered a small smile. The guy- he introduced himself as Felix on the walk to the back room- was still obviously stressed, but seemed sweet. The room was a small storage closet, with a tiny desk and an even smaller chair, a short stack of books, and a small locker full of extra shirts and aprons.

“I’ll give you a minute to change,” the boy said as he handed Hyunjin a black t-shirt. It had a small logo on it, a cup of coffee with latte art and the words “Keopi Kong” in a small typewriter font, with the corresponding characters 커피 콩 beneath it. 

“Can I make you a drink to make up for the trouble?” The boy asked. “It’s on the house!”

“Um, a vanilla latte please. To go,” Felix nodded so fast Hyunjin was worried he would hurt his neck. He shut the door with a small slam and rushed to the front to make the drink while Hyunjin changed.

Sighing, he peeled the wet shirt off his body, folding it so that the stain was covered and wouldn’t spread. As he leaned down to put the shirt in his bag, he accidentally knocked a cup full of pencils over on the table. He reached over to put them back and noticed a small notebook laying open face next to the stack of books. As he pulled on the clean shirt, he wondered if this was that book with all of the regulars’ orders that his new favorite barista had been using.

Leaning over, he inspected the writing. Surprisingly, he didn’t find various coffee orders, but rather line after line of gorgeous prose. At first glance he thought maybe somebody had written down their favorite poems or quotes, but he noticed that some of the lines were crossed out, some with notes written in the margins, and with others bearing smudges from overuse of an eraser. This was coming from someone’s _soul_ , he was sure of it. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there drinking in the words, but it must have been a few minutes because suddenly Felix was opening the door, to-go cup in hand. 

“One _sorry-I-spilled-coffee-on-you-latte_ hot and ready to- oh, shit,” he said, taking in the scene in front of him. “You weren’t supposed to read that.”

“Did you write this?” Hyunjin finally tore his eyes from the book. “It’s amazing!” 

“No, no, it’s not mine,” Felix shook his head, “But the person who did is super private, he doesn’t like people reading them before they’re finished. Um, how’s your shirt?”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Hyunjin insisted. “I’ll wash it tonight and it’ll be fine.”

Felix gripped the back of his neck anxiously, face a little white. Hyunjin felt bad for the guy, stress was practically oozing out of him at that point. Was spilling coffee on someone that big of an offense for the employees? He hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble, the guy seemed really nice.

“Don’t worry about the spill, Felix, seriously. Now I get to look like one of you cool Keopi Kong baristas.”

Felix laughed, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to rub the back of his neck.

“Here’s your latte,” he said quickly. “Again, I’m so sorry but thanks for being so cool about it.”

Hyunjin smiled at him, “Don’t mention it. I’ll see you next time!” he said. 

Still a little worried about Felix getting reprimanded, he threw a few bills in the tip jar on his way out. Making eye contact with the shorter guy at the counter, he yelled, “Great service!”, probably a little too loud. He hurried out of the shop, before he could embarrass himself further, heading out to meet Seungmin. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Felix watched Hyunjin as he walked out of the cafe, anxiety bubbling in his stomach. Changbin turned from the counter he was wiping down, frowning. “That was weird. Lix, you okay?”

Felix briefly considered not saying anything, but he knew himself well enough to know that he would explode if he didn’t get to talk this over with someone. And the person he usually talked things over with, was the person he especially didn’t want to find out about this.

“Um, Binnie,” he said cautiously, “Do you think Jisung would show me his lyric book?”

“No?” Changbin blinked at him, blankly. “You know how private he is after what happened. He practically bit my head off when I suggested we should read over his lyrics before we recorded the last song. He only shows Chan and I when they’re totally done.”

“Well,” Felix gulped, feeling dizzy. “What would you say if I told you that the regular that just left accidentally read through one of Ji’s songs?”

Changbin’s eyes widened, a frown growing on his face. They were both quiet for a moment, until Jisung himself rushed into the store for his shift.

“Hey guys!” he called, heading to the back room. “Sorry I’m a little late. I couldn’t find my lyric book- I think I must have left it here last night, I’m an idiot. Can you start a macchiato for me, I saw Number 17 walking over here when I came in!”

Felix and Changbin met each others’ gaze, silently agreeing to not bring it up. There was no reason to upset him, especially when Jisung would never have to find out. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Hyunjin knocked at the door hesitantly. He would normally never interrupt Seungmin when he was with a client, but he didn’t want to just leave the coffee with the receptionist at the clinic. Seungmin had said it was fine when he had texted him, but he still felt awkward just walking in blindly. He knocked again, a little louder this time.

“Come in!” a voice called.

Hyunjin walked into the room to see Seungmin pressing his fingers to a bruised, swollen ankle. Attached to the ankle was a beautiful boy with dark hair and bright eyes, who said “You busted up, too?” 

Hyunjin snorted. He liked this guy already. “Luckily, no. Just needed to drop off Seungmin’s caffeine fix, so he can then fix you.” He handed the coffee over to Seungmin, who took it gratefully. 

“I’m Hyunjin.” he offered. 

“I’m Minho.” The pretty boy waved from his position on the exam table. “Seungmin mentioned you’d be coming by to put some pep in his step. I’m a dancer so I kind of need this ankle in tip-top shape, as soon as possible. If coffee will help, you can come to PT anytime.” he laughed.

“Wait, did you dance at SNU?” Hyunjin asked. 

Minho’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Wait, were you in the freshman class when I was a senior? You look so familiar!”

Hyunjin nodded, vaguely remembering the boy in front of him as one of the seniors he had been far too shy to introduce himself to when he first joined the dance team. It had been a few years, but Minho’s face was one that was hard to forget.

“Yeah, I remember you!” Minho said with a smile. “Sorry we didn’t get to chat much, I was auditioning for a few dance companies that year so I was super busy and didn’t get to know the new class as much.”

As Seungmin took a few long sips of his coffee, the two dancers swapped a few stories of their time dancing in college. Hyunjin explained that he was now a grad student, to which Minho had simply patted his head and said, “Godspeed.” Hyunjin assumed that was supposed to be a supportive sentiment.

“I work for a touring dance company now,” Minho said. “We do a few months at a time and I got this stupid injury during practice for our next rotation. It starts soon, so a fucked-up ankle isn’t exactly the best thing for me right now. If I don’t heal fast enough, I might have to stay and work at the studio for a rotation or two.”

“It won’t be a bad recovery,” Seungmin insisted, finishing another sip of his coffee before returning to analyzing the ankle. “But you need to give it time.”

“I’m thinking just like a week or two,” Minho insisted. “You could honestly tell them I’m all clear and I could go dance right away. Seriously, it’s all- FUCK!” 

Minho jerked his head back, eyes scrunched in pain at where Seungmin had pressed down on a particularly sensitive spot. The aspiring physical therapist sighed, removing his hands from Minho’s foot. 

“I think we’ve got a bit of a way to go before you’re back dancing full time,” Seungmin said gently. “Just take it slow, Minho-shi, you don’t want to hurt it even worse by putting pressure back on it before you’re fully healed.”

“Call me hyung,” Minho waved his hand at them. “You’re fixing me after all. You have to touch my gross dancer feet.” 

Seungmin leaned back, taking another gulp of his latte. “You want to talk gross?” He pointed at Hyunjin. “One time when we were in undergrad, Hyunjin was working on this painting and when he turned to get a different brush, he fell off his stool and dislocated his shoulder. I had to pop it back in for him in our apartment, because his student health insurance plan hadn’t started yet.”

Minho grimaced. “Nasty.”

“It’s not my fault!” Hyunjin pouted. “The stool was wobbly.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin snorted. “Let’s blame the stool.”

The three of them ended up chatting for a few more minutes, but then Hyunjin had to leave to get back to campus for his evening class. Minho gave him a big smile, promising they would all get together soon. 

“See you tonight, Seungmin,” Hyunjin said, “Good luck with your ankle, hyung.”

✩ ✩ ✩

Late that night, when the two roommates were crowded around some ramen, Seungmin spoke up. 

“Hey, thanks for the coffee earlier. I probably would have fallen asleep on Minho without it.”

“No problem,” Hyunjin insisted. “He was so fun to talk to. And to be honest, I was kind of looking for an excuse to go back to the cafe in the afternoon.”

Seungmin squinted his eyes. “Why were you looking for an excuse?”

Hyunjin blushed. “Uh, no reason. Just felt like coffee?” his voice hitched at the end, betraying him. Seungmin slowly lowered his chopsticks.

“Was it a _boy_?”

“Oh my god, Seungmin, it’s not always a boy.” Hyunjin grumbled.

Seungmin had the audacity to snort at that. “Of course not, sometimes it’s a girl. Like when we had to go to that pizza place every Wednesday for lunch last year, it was definitely for the shitty pepperoni and not because you thought the girl bussing tables was, and I quote, ‘precious’.” 

“Moving _on_ ,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I actually found something better than a boy or girl at the cafe today.”

“Money?” Seungmin paused, his chopstick midair.

“Inspiration!” he said proudly.

Seungmin returned to his ramen, poking the egg so that the yolk dripped into the broth. “What kind of inspiration?”

Hyunjin thought back to the book he found. “One of the employees accidentally spilled some coffee on me, and he took me to the back room to let me change shirts-”

“I was wondering why you were suddenly wearing Keopi Kong merch.” Seungmin said.

Hyunjin ignored him, “So while I was swapping shirts, I found this notebook that someone had left in there-” 

“You were snooping through a random person’s stuff?”

“ _No_ ,” Hyunjin groaned at the second interruption. “It was literally open on the table, I just read a few lines while I got changed. But get this- they were like lyrics or a poem or something, and they were SO good. I had been struggling with my project all day and God blessed me with some random Shakespeare in the back room of a coffee shop for my struggles.”

Seungmin slurped more noodles into his mouth, then asked, “What was the poem about?”

“Trying to find your way in the world, like exploring yourself and expressing yourself. It was exactly what I was looking for. After I left you and Minho, I got like half of the project done in my ceramics class this afternoon.”

“Oh!” Seungmin looked up. “Speaking of Minho, he said we should all get coffee together after his PT next week. Apparently, some of his friends work at Keopi Kong, he said he would introduce us. Maybe we can get a friendship discount.”

Hyunjin smiled. “We’re not going to be reclusive anymore?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I’m going to tell Jeongin you said we have no friends.”

Hyunjin smacked his arm. “I’m just saying it’ll be nice to have some people to hang out with. Jeongin is in his senior year, he’s crazy busy. But he knows he’s still our best friend.”

“Well, maybe if you’re lucky,” Seungmin snickered “we’ll find your Shakespeare and your sculpture will impress him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He had no idea.


	2. a broken compass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no self control, so here's the second part super early! as always, your comments give me LIFE :)
> 
> The songs for this chapter are "Choke" by Sonn and "Midsummer Madness" by 88rising
> 
> Enjoy!

Two weeks later, Hyunjin finished the piece inspired by the mystery author. He beamed under the praise from his professor, who fawned over the ceramic sculpture. The piece was a broken compass, a flurry of bright reds and dark blacks molded to intentional imperfection. The intense colors and sharp angles emphasized his vision perfectly- a loss of direction and personal struggle to keep moving forward- in a way that Hyunjin hadn’t been sure he could properly communicate before. 

He knew the piece was a knockout because his professor just about ran out of breath babbling about how great his sculpture was. _“How did you come up with this?”_ she’d exclaimed. _“It’s gorgeous, Hyunjin, truly. If you keep this up over the next few weeks, you’ll be in a good spot going into midterms,”_ Seungmin had insisted on celebrating his success at karaoke, and Jeongin had joined them for a night of too much sake and haphazardly singing along to 80’s hits. 

As the weeks passed, the roommates had fallen into a routine of meeting up with Minho at Keopi Kong in the afternoons. From there, Felix started joining them, and then Changbin. Soon enough, a guy named Chan with curly hair and an endearing dimple started dropping by when he could. Other names were dropped here and there, but Hyunjin was less worried about remembering them all, too focused on his joy that his circle of friends was steadily growing. 

Now, as the roommates sat with Minho and Felix at the corner booth one afternoon, conversation turned to how the dancer had initially dragged Seungmin and Hyunjin into the fray the month before. Minho hummed happily as he sipped on his iced coffee. 

“I was kind of nervous about going to a clinic that was part of a teaching program,” he admitted. “But I don’t exactly have a ton of income as a dancer so I figured it was my best option since it was a low-cost clinic. My friend was supposed to take me to PT but got called into a meeting last minute, so I had to go to my first appointment alone. Luckily, Seungmin was super cool about everything, so I wasn’t too nervous.”

As Minho started to jump into a story of Felix in college, who had drunkenly dialed each of their friends to tell them a joke that he could never remember the punchline to (“to this day, honest to God, we don’t know why the giraffe walked into the bar”), a blonde boy bustled through the front door. Hyunjin’s heart tightened when he realized who it was.

“Hey!” Minho shouted. “Jisung!”

_Jisung_ , Hyunjin thought to himself. _So that’s his name_. 

Jisung turned to face the table, a smile forming as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and walked over. “Hey, Minho, Felix. New friends?” 

Hyunjin decided that he liked this guy’s smile.

“Minho introduced me to Seungmin the other week,” Felix spoke up. “He’s the guy from that physical therapy clinic that has been helping him with his foot.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Jisung’s eyes lit up in recognition. “If you’re dealing with a whining Minho, you deserve an award.”

“He’s not too bad,” Seungmin snorted. “He only complains a bit.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “He’s a big baby is what he is.”

Minho stuck his tongue out at Felix, then turned back to Jisung, “And this is Hyunjin, Seungmin’s roommate. He’s in grad school at Seoul National.”

“Number 27!” Jisung said to Hyunjin, breaking into a smile. “Two shots of espresso and a pump of vanilla, I remember you.”

Hyunjin ignored the small flip in his stomach and smiled back at the boy. “Nice to meet you, Jisung!”

Jisung winked at him, turning his attention back to his friends.

“You’ve still got like twenty minutes until your shift starts, hang out with us.” Felix said, pulling a chair over. Jisung looked around, presumably for his manager, but sat regardless. 

As Jisung settled into his seat, Minho jumped into the story of how the two had met. 

“We were both hanging out in the library, and I noticed this guy out of the corner of my eye, very _clearly_ trying to get my attention. He’s walking back and forth in the nonfiction section, picking up random books and looking over to see if I’m watching him.” 

Jisung rolled his eyes, but Minho just laughed.

“So I decided to fuck with him a little,” he continued. “So I purposely ignored him for a few minutes. Any time I could feel him looking at me, I’d hide my head behind my book so he couldn’t see me at all. Finally, I jerked my head up super fast and yelled, ‘HEY!’ at him, and then I hear this insanely loud crash. I looked over, and he had jumped back so quickly that he accidentally knocked down five bookshelves.”

“It was one-” Jisung tried to interrupt.

“Hitting one started a _domino effect_ , Ji,” Minho insisted. “You knocked over a ton.”

Jisung huffed, but he was smiling. 

“Anyway,” Minho continued, “It was obvious that he was mortified, and I felt kind of bad for him. So I did the only thing I could think of to make him feel better.”

“Help him up?” Seungmin asked.

Felix snorted. “He knocked over another shelf in his own section.”

The table erupted in laughter. Hyunjin could practiclly see it- Jisung mortified under a pile of books, and Minho shoving another down in an attempt to console the boy. 

“We both got kicked out of the library, obviously, so we had to find a new place to study that semester until we were allowed back. We started going to this diner near campus, and ended up becoming close. I thought Jisung had a crush on me at first, but later I found out that he was just staring at me so much because he thought I looked like this dude in a drama he liked.” 

“To be fair, you _do_ look a lot alike!” Jisung said through a laugh. 

“ _Why_ would a celebrity be on our college campus, Ji?” Minho asked with a roll of his eyes. “Anyway, although we didn’t end up becoming the hottest couple of the year, we did end up being really great friends. He’s my platonic soulmate, I’m super proud of everything he does. Even if he is kind of embarrassing around cute boys.” 

Jisung hid his face behind his hands in embarrassment. Hyunjin stifled a giggle at how his cheeks still managed to peek out behind his hands. 

“Oh you think _I’m_ bad?” he huffed from under his palm. “You should have seen Felix when I introduced him to Changbin our freshmen year. He only spoke in English for, like, the first five times we hung out.”

“He was cute!” Felix insisted. “It made me forget how to do grammar!” 

“He thought I had a roommate that didn’t speak any Korean!” Jisung yelled.

Felix rolled his eyes. “And yet you are still living with me, almost five years later.”

Seungmin was gripping his to-go cup, laughing. “And you guys all work here together, now?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, Changbin and Felix got together a few months after he started actually speaking,” Felix reached over and flicked his forehead, but Jisung continued on, unbothered. “Changbin was working here part time with his roommate, Chan. Felix and I got part time jobs when we were both juniors. Well, I took some time off school, but credit wise I was still a junior, so we’ve been here for almost three years.”

Felix nodded. “When I’m not here, I’m at my internship with Strikeline. It’s a gaming company- I majored in game design and I’m hoping to go full time in the spring. Then I’ll finally abandon Sungie to man the espresso machine all by himself.”

“You better not,” Jisung smacked Felix on the arm, turning back to Hyunjin. “Felix and Changbin are the only reason the job is tolerable, to be honest. That, and the fact that we get to play some of our music on the speakers when the manager isn’t paying attention.”

Hyunjin leaned forward, intrigued. “You write music?”

“Yes!” Jisung nodded, clearly proud. “Me, Changbin, and Chan. We produce songs together under the name 3racha. Chan works at a record label- Silver Stone- full time, Changbin is there on an internship four times a week, and the rest of the time he works here. I’m hoping to get into the internship program next year.”

“That’s so cool.” Hyunjin said.

The conversation then spilled into Seungmin talking about PT, only slightly exaggerating how much Minho screamed at his second session. Changbin insisted that everyone watch a video compilation he had made on his phone of Jisung scaring Chan in his studio. As everyone was laughing, Jisung started to pull his apron out of his bag when his notebook slid out a bit. 

“Oh,” Hyunjin’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Is that yours? I was wondering whose it was!”

Jisung furrowed his brows, confused. “Sorry?”

“Your notebook! You know, Jisung, you actually helped inspire my latest piece,” Hyunjin said happily, pulling out his phone. Before he could see the panic on Felix’s face, he had leaned over, pointing to the photo on his screen. “I saw some of your lyrics last time I was here, and it gave me a great idea for this sculpture. It’s a broken compass, see?”

Jisung was suddenly sitting straight up, face pale. “How the hell did you read my lyrics?”

Hyunjin was still looking at the photo with pride, missing how Jisung’s eyes had darkened. “Oh, Felix spilled coffee on me so he let me borrow a t-shirt and let me change in the back, and your book was laying open on the desk. It’s really good stuff, dude. I got an insanely high review from my professor on this piece.”

Jisung had stood up before Hyunjin could even realize that the shorter boy was upset.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of a dick move to invade somebody’s boundaries and read their personal thoughts, and then to turn it into your own work?” Jisung huffed, wringing his hand anxiously. “Dude. Don’t read my shit.”

He shoved the chair back under the table with a slam.

“I have to go start my shift,” he said, voice icy. “Try not to dig through my stuff while you’re gone.”

He walked into the back room, pulling the door shut loudly. The switch in personality was so instant, Hyunjin didn’t even know how to respond. He felt like his head was spinning. 

“ _Woah_ ,” Seungmin looked affronted. “What is he being such a drama queen about?”

Felix looked absolutely miserable, but Minho just had a small frown as he turned to Seungmin and Hyunjin. 

“I’m sorry about Jisung,” he said. “He’s, like, crazy private about his lyrics. I mean, we have been friends for years and he _still_ doesn’t let me read his stuff.”

“Why?” Seungmin asked.

Minho just shook his head. 

“I didn’t know-” Hyunjin started, but Seungmin was waving his words away.

“He’s being a dick, Jin,” Seungmin said. “You had no way of knowing how he felt. Especially if he just left the book lying around.”

Hyunjin felt his shock at Jisung’s sudden attitude morph into a creeping sense of guilt. He probably should have been angry that the boy had snapped at him, but all he could think about was why Jisung was so private about his work. He tried to imagine how he would have felt if someone had seen some of his pieces before they were done, and it dawned on him how uncomfortable that would be. If he had known how serious this guy was he never would have read the page. Even if it gave him some of the best work he had ever done, he felt guilty that it had come at the expense of someone’s feelings. It was obvious he was touchy about it, for whatever reason.

“Don’t worry about him, Hyunjin.” Felix said, still looking sad. “It wasn’t your fault, and he’ll see that when he stops being so pissed. Jisung gets really mad at stuff like this, but it’s just because he gets insecure about his lyrics.”

“He’s an artist but he can’t share his work with people?” Seungmin scoffed.

“It’s, uh… complicated,” Felix said. He was staring a hole into the table, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s really not my place to talk about. Let’s just say he’s gotten some not-so-supportive feedback, so he’s a little oversensitive.”

Hyunjin couldn’t imagine someone reading work like that and not instantly being a fan. His frown deepened. “He’s going to hate me forever.”

Minho placed a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Don’t stress, dude. Ji will be back to his peppy self in no time.”

✩ ✩ ✩

To say that Jisung was stressed was an understatement. His whole shift, Felix was trying to make eye contact with him, looking like a kicked puppy. When he got off work, he booked it to the bus stop without even stopping to talk to Felix. He felt bad about ignoring his friend, but when he got into a mood like this he couldn’t focus on anything besides the itching desire to crawl out of his own skin. He needed to be in a studio, and he needed to do it alone. He was dialing Chan’s number before he even realized what his fingers were doing, and forty-five minutes later, Chan was letting him into an empty studio room at SilverStone.

“Just an hour today, Jisung,” he said softly. “I’ve got to do some work tonight.”

Jisung nodded, thankful for his friend but not sure how to say it with his head swimming so much. Chan seemed to understand and closed the door. Jisung leaned over to turn the lock, trying to shake the voices out of his head. 

_“Your work is shit, Jisung,”_ the voice hissed. _“I can’t believe you let people read this mediocrity.”_

He was back there, then, standing in the snow with the sun setting behind him. It was freezing that day, but that wasn’t why he was shaking. He tried to ignore the memory, but it kept screaming at him.

_“I’m the only reason you’re even still in your program. Nobody would like your lyrics without my help.”_

He pushed the voice down, refusing to succumb to the feeling of helplessness that had so often suffocated him. Instead, he put on the headphones and leaned toward the mic, determined to work through the pain rather than submit to it. 

The next hour passed by in a blur of freestyling and the pounding of bass in his veins. 

He knew he was overreacting, he _knew_ he was, but knowing that didn’t stop his hands from shaking. There was something about that Hyunjin guy reading his work that really fucked him up. It was like all those months of work had gone down the drain, and he was back in his junior year, gripping his lyric book in his hand with tears streaming down his face in a January snowstorm. Pretty boys reading his work led to nothing but despair, he knew that all too well. 

By the time Chan returned for him, his breathing had finally steadied. Now that the stress had passed, he felt a little embarrassed at how he had snapped at his new friends, but he knew that his pride wouldn’t let him easily patch that up. 

“Better?” Chan had asked.

“Yeah.” Jisung said, voice shaking a bit.

“Felix texted me,” Chan said. “He said he accidentally let someone read your stuff after a mishap at work. He’s freaking out.”

“ _Accident_ ,” Jisung scoffed. “How do you read someone’s private journal by _accident_?”

“I don’t know, Ji, but maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt.”

Jisung crossed his arms, but his voice was small. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, hyung.”

“Okay,” Chan nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You should touch base with Felix when you get home, though. He feels awful about all this.”

Jisung sighed, but he nodded. He knew he couldn’t stay mad at Felix very long, and to be honest the whole thing had just sapped his energy. He was feeling low, and he just wanted to eat some dinner and go to bed. 

He had come home to an apartment full of smoke, Felix having tried to cook him an apology dinner. Jisung had planned on staying stern, but the tears in Felix’s eyes thawed his anger quickly. They had spent the evening fanning smoke out of the windows, ordering shitty takeout, and playing one of Felix’s game demos. Even in his frustration, Jisung knew how lucky he was to have friends like his. 

His anger at Felix’s mistake faded quickly. The stranger, though, was another story. If he stayed mad, he wouldn’t have to admit that he’d been a jerk. Han Jisung was nothing if not prideful. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Over the next few weeks, Hyunjin met up with his new friends for coffee at the end of Felix’s shifts. Jisung rarely stuck around longer than it took to glare at Hyunjin, and the tension in the room was palpable. Felix insisted that he was making progress, talking to Jisung over dinners in their apartment about how Hyunjin _really_ wasn’t the devil, but Jisung had yet to actually approach the group. Minho found the whole thing a bit funny, insisting that his friend was just being his own personal brand of idiot. The boy that threw steely looks over his shoulder was a far cry from the bright, smiling face Hyunjin had first met, and after three weeks of the grumpy side-eyed glances he was starting to get frustrated with the silent treatment.

Rain was hitting the windows gently, and Hyunjin felt confused as he sipped on his latte. Jisung was pacing behind the counter, refusing to look at their corner of the room, and Felix had yet to join their table, presumably still in the back room changing out of his work uniform. 

“How can I apologize properly if Jisung won’t walk within a ten foot radius of me?” Hyunjin complained.

“I can break his leg and force him to come to PT.” Minho said, eyes dancing.

“ _No_ ,” Seungmin said. “No maiming. I’m swamped enough as it is, I don’t need any more clients.”

“As long as I’m your favorite client.” Minho winked at him.

Seungmin’s cheeks burned red, but he stood his ground. Just as the three of them started to argue over the legal definition of _maim_ , Jisung surprised them all by walking over to the table. He stopped in front of Hyunjin, but refused to make eye contact. He was gripping his hands again, obviously uncomfortable. 

“ _Ahem_ ,” Jisung cleared his throat. Hyunjin hoped that if he started screaming at him, it would be over quickly. “I’m sorry I’ve been rude. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at you reading my lyrics.”

Other than the usual playlist gently coming through the speakers, the entire coffee shop grew so quiet they could have heard a pin drop. Hyunjin was certain his jaw was hanging open. _Weeks_ of the cold shoulder, and now he was apologizing? He had kind of gotten the feeling that apologizing didn’t come easy to him. 

Just as he was about to accept the apology, Jisung added, “But it was still gross to read somebody’s notebook without asking, you know?”

From behind the counter, they all heard a mangled scream.

“ _JISUNG_!” Felix yelled, popping up from where he had been crouched down, hiding. “That was _not_ how you practiced with Changbin!”

“Well,” Jisung rolled his eyes. “It’s as good as it’s going to get. Sorry, Number 27.”

“My name’s Hyunjin.” the taller boy said. Seungmin snorted, but looked otherwise placated. Minho was all smiles as he leaned forward. “ _Progress_!” the older boy stage-whispered.

Jisung shrugged, returning to his post behind the counter. Felix was waiting for him, smacking him on the shoulder and murmuring under his breath. Even if the attempt at a heartfelt apology left something to be desired, Felix looked relieved. Jisung shot a glance at their table again, and Hyunjin gave him a small smile. Jisung looked away so fast it was almost comical, but he was sporting a small smile when he swapped places with Felix and turned to face his first customer of the day. 

Looking at the boy leaning over the cash register, Hyunjin felt his confusion return. Jisung was truly an enigma; his lyrics were thoughtful, deep, insightful. . . but the boy standing with his wrinkled apron and black cap pulled almost down to his eyebrows was the definition of a spitfire. He was quick to anger, quick to speak, and quick to make a fool of himself. There was clearly some pain there, too, but Hyunjin imagined that that was a part of Jisung that he rarely let other people see. To be honest, if he hadn’t read the words himself, Hyunjin wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to believe that this rough-and-tumble boy was capable of such depth. 

“Well, now that we’re all friends again,” Minho said with a giggle. “I was thinking we could all hang out soon?”

“That sounds great!” Seungmin said. Hyunjin was worried about pushing his luck, worried he and Jisung would be at each other’s throats again, but something in the way that Minho was smiling at Seungmin kept him quiet. 

“Awesome! I’ll invite Chan, Felix will drag Changbin along I’m sure. Feel free to bring anyone else.”

“We have a grand total of one friend,” Hyunjin deadpanned. Minho looked unphased.

“Jeongin, right? Seungmin told me about him. Bring him along!”

“You got it. What are we going to do?”

Minho smiled mischievously. “What _else_ could you grad students want to do?”

Seungmin raised his eyebrows.

“Drinking and noraebang, obviously.”

✩ ✩ ✩

The following weekend, the group of them met up at a dive bar downtown. Over shots of shitty vodka, Hyunjin learned that Felix was a pro at memorizing girl-group choreography and Changbin had an alarming amount of aegyo after a few beers. As Felix flawlessly covered a Twice song while Chan laughed into his drink, Hyunjin noticed that Jisung looked a little uncomfortable on the crowded dance floor. Before he could even think about saying something, Chan’s eagle eyes spotted Jisung’s discomfort and he swiftly whisked him away to the bar for another round. Hyunjin felt a little warm witnessing such a quiet, kind act of friendship, and he silently promised himself to pay for one of Chan’s drinks. 

The group ended up all squished into a corner booth, hastily trying to play a drinking game with almost no elbow room. Hyunjin tried not to focus too much on Jisung, but as the night went on he found himself somehow sitting next to the boy. It was still a little awkward between them, but Jisung was slowly becoming that cocky, funny person he had first met, and Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself from being intrigued. Some part of himself, admittedly one that he wasn’t very proud of, just wanted to get close to him so he could get some more inspiration for his work. 

By the time the group ended up at norebong, Hyunjin was definitely tipsy. Chan and Changbin were taking turns slurring through a rap while Felix aggressively cheered, leaning a bit to his right. Seungmin and Minho sang a ballad duet that made their drunk friends tear up, and everybody joined in on an ensemble rendition of the latest girl group comeback. Chan sang a few songs flawlessly, but had to go home early to take care of his friend's dog, a colossal Saint Bernard named Cub. Minho only let him out of the room once he promised to give Cub an extra pet for him. 

“He’s a precious boy!” Minho had yelled, alcohol on his breath. “He deserves _respect_!” 

At half past midnight, Jisung plucked the microphone from Jeongin after an astoundingly on-point trot performance and announced that it was time for his own solo. Changbin snorted, but still clicked through the song catalog, picking the one Jisung requested. 

A heavy beat started blaring from the speakers, and in front of his eyes Hyunjin watched the small blonde transform from a spunky post-grad into a rapping machine. He was hitting every beat with expert precision, a few beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he gestured along with the words. For the next three minutes, Hyunjin was entranced as Jisung confidently spit verse after verse, the group clapping their hands to the beat. Minho tried to jump up and do some choreography before Seungmin grabbed the end of his t-shirt and pulled him back to the couch, reminding him to be careful of his ankle. Hyunjin was so focused on Jisung that he didn’t notice how closely the other two were now sitting. 

By the time the song faded out, Hyunjin felt a bit frozen to his seat, but he could definitely feel Seungmin smirking at him. With the song over, Jisung was suddenly a little shy. He handed the microphone to Hyunjin with a small smile. 

“Your turn.” he said. 

The rest of the night passed in a blur of shots and off-key singing, but Hyunjin couldn’t shake one thought.

He needed to get back to the art studio. .


	3. the muse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends, welcome to the latest chapter! enjoy!
> 
> music: "space makes me sad" by fiji & "comethru" by jeremy zucker. 
> 
> Thread of visuals: https://twitter.com/this_is_mk_/status/1228384778619060229?s=20

If Jisung hadn’t hated Hyunijn before, he definitely did now. Not for anything he had done, or hadn’t done, really. He was just so _likable_. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t hate. Over the past month, the boys had all gotten together a few times, and with each passing day Jisung was finding it harder and harder to keep up his pissed-at-the-world act. Although he was frustrated, his lyric book was steadily growing after each meeting. Jisung tried not to think about that too much. 

Sitting across from Hyunjin in a cheap bakery near his university, Jisung wondered how he had let Felix delusion himself into thinking that this was a good idea. Nobody else could meet that day, and instead of cancelling like any _rational_ human being would, Felix had nagged Jisung into meeting up with Hyunjin alone. The bakery was close to the art building and Hyunjin was dressed in old jeans covered in acrylic paint that suggested he had left in the middle of working on one of his pieces. Frustratingly, he still looked gorgeous. 

Jisung was shocked that they were getting along so far, although the first fifteen minutes had been a bit awkward when they both seemed to realize that they were really on their own. But when it came time to order and Jisung jokingly suggested skipping straight to dessert, Hyunjin had simply closed the flimsy paper menu and ordered two cheesecakes for them without a second thought. 

He was making it _very_ hard to hate him. 

Over their sweet treats, Jisung was extremely annoyed to find that he not only didn’t hate Hyunjin, he actually _kind of liked_ him. When he spoke about his ancient art class (“I swear, my professor is so old she was probably there when Michaelangelo painted the ceiling,”) or when he talked about his friendship with Seungmin (“We’ve been friends for so long that I like to think I’m his favorite person, but then I remember that Wonpil exists and I just can’t compete with that,”), Jisung found himself genuinely laughing. When he got home that evening, he found that he felt inspired, sweaty, and above all- confused. 

He had kept these frustrations to himself, mostly, if only because Minho seemed too excited about new friends for him to rain on his parade. Minho didn’t often show his excitement outwardly, save for if it had to do with his cats, so Jisung was letting him express himself as much as he wanted. Unfortunately, that meant his roommate got the majority of his complaining. 

“And when it was time to pay, he insisted on paying for mine too, as “ _repayment_ ” for reading my lyrics,” Jisung ranted. He was pacing the floor, restless. “Like, do I look like a charity case? What did he mean by that?”

“I think he was probably just being nice to you, Ji,” Felix sighed from his spot on the couch. “He’s nice.” 

He looked bored, and Jisung didn’t blame him, as this was probably his fifth Hyunjin-related rant that week. He started picking at a thread in his sweater, frustrated. 

“We got along really well today,” Jisung admitted. “But sometimes he says something nice to me or he smiles at me and I suddenly want to punch him, you know?”

Felix snorted at that. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe all this aggression is just, like, pent-up sexual frustration or something?”

Jisung looked horrified. “Oh my _god_ , no!”

Felix looked unconvinced. “You were the one who put the chilli pepper next to Number 27 in the customer codebook.”

“I draw peppers next to all the cute patrons, but that was _before_ I found out he was a nosy person with no concept of privacy,” Jisung crossed his arms, indignant. “His pepper is hereby revoked.”

“I don’t think you can revoke a pepper.” Felix mused.

“I made the pepper system, Lix, I can do whatever I want.” Jisung pouted. 

“It’s been two months,” Felix sighed. “I thought we had moved past the enemies act?”

“I have, it’s just...” Jisung groaned. If he was being honest, he knew he didn’t hate Hyunjin. Which made his feelings all the more confusing. When he spoke again, his voice was smaller. 

“He’s an artist who’s actually working towards his dream,” he said softly. “Like, he’s in _school_ for it. He’s not stuck at some shitty part time job. People believe in him.”

Felix’s frustration quickly melted into sympathy. “Come here.” he patted the cushion next to him. Jisung sighed heavily as he collapsed onto the couch, reaching out his arms so that Felix would cuddle him. Felix swept Jisung’s bangs back from his face, planting an obnoxious kiss on his forehead. Jisung swiped at him, but snuggled in under his friend’s arm anyways. Felix always ran warm, making him the ideal cuddle partner. 

“Sungie,” Felix said, giving him a squeeze. “You _know_ you’re a great musician. Just because you haven’t gotten your break yet doesn’t mean it won’t come.”

Jisung’s voice was so quiet, Felix almost didn’t hear him whisper, “Sometimes I wonder if he was right.”

“Ji, _never_ say that,” Felix said, an intensity to his words that the kindhearted boy rarely used. He lifted Jisung’s chin so that they were eye to eye. “He knew _nothing_ about you.” 

Jisung looked a little unconvinced, but nodded nonetheless. Felix seemed satisfied and returned to snuggling his roommate. 

“Besides,” Felix added. “Maybe hanging out with more artsy people will inspire you, too. Seems like your lyrics really helped Hyunjin out of his creative rut.”

“Yeah, he showed me some more pictures of the sculpture. It was… good,” Jisung rolled his eyes. “And he made another thing recently, a painting, that his professor really liked. It’s actually… all really good. I guess at least _someone_ is getting recognition for their work,” 

“I’m just saying,” Felix said gently, tugging on a lock of his hair. “Maybe you’ll end up inspiring each other.” 

✩ ✩ ✩

Hyunjin scooted forward to the edge of his seat, hands stained a light grey. The soft clay was cool against his palms, and he was pleased that it seemed to be following his instructions that day. With every small flick of his wrist, the form took further shape in his hands. Ever since he had shown his professor his pieces inspired by Jisung’s lyrics, the bar had been set a little higher. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to get as good of a reaction since the painting he had made after the evening they all went to norebong, and he was killing himself in the process of trying to recreate the splendor of his best pieces. He didn’t want to consider that he may be burnt out, or that his success was a fluke, so he kept working on new pieces relentlessly. Yet, time after time, he would show his professor a sketch or a work in progress and she would tilt her head and say, “It’s good, but not quite _there_ yet.”

“Where is _there_?!” he wanted to yell. It was starting to get disheartening. Last night, he had nursed his third glass of red wine and cried to an overly cliche episode of one of his dramas when Seungmin had had enough of the moping. He had plucked the glass of merlot from his hands, thrown a tissue at him, and told him with as much kindness as he could muster that what he was doing wasn’t working, so he needed to come up with a different solution. Damn Seungmin for always being right.

“I just can’t get back to the headspace I was in when I made those pieces, you know?” Hyunjin sniffled. “I keep getting close but I just feel like I’ve got a creative block.”

Seungmin looked thoughtful. “You were feeling a lot like this before you made that last piece, so maybe this is a sign that your next work will be really great, too?”

Hyunjin hiccuped uglily and blew his nose, sounding alarmingly like a trumpet. _Damn anybody that looks good when they cry_ , he thought to himself. Seungmin gave him a gentle pat on the head, patient as always.

“Thanks, you’re right,” he had said, voice thick with tears. “I’ll try to think of it like that.”

Seungmin had tucked him into bed, promising that the next day would be a creative smörgåsbord. Instead, Hyunjin had woken up with a hungover and a sense of frustration. Regardless, he appreciated his friend’s support.

He tried channeling the vibe from the drama he has been watching into his next piece. The clay was working with him, and just as he felt like this next sculpture might actually be working in his favor, he felt a sneeze coming. _God, please, no_ he thought to himself. In the split second that he lost his focus, the clay slid to his right so quickly that he couldn’t stop it if he had tried- and mid-sneeze, he didn’t really try at all. The clay hit the ground with a dull _thud_ and Hyunjin sat frozen in place. He felt tears prickling in his eyes again, and decided with a sigh that that was enough for today. It just wasn’t his day.

The late afternoon sun was hanging low in the sky, painting the trees a golden hue as he began to walk the route home. He played with the small pallette trinket on his keyring that Jeongin had gifted him for getting first in an art showcase his sophomore year, his hands desperate to have something to work on. He tried halfheartedly to come up with a different idea for his next project, something that would meet the level of his previous sculpture. Maybe canvas was the right route? As he was mulling over the pros and cons of relying solely on oil paints, he passed the short alleyway between a phone repair store and an apartment complex. 

“Hey, there.” Hyunjin heard a soft voice mumble quietly from somewhere down the alley. He momentarily weighed his curiosity against his fear of being murdered and unsurprisingly, his curiosity won. He turned on his heel, craning his neck to look down the alley in between the buildings. To his shock, he found a shape that looked alarmingly like Jisung crouched over a manhole cover about fifteen feet away.

“Any reason you’re baby-talking the ground right now?” Hyunjin asked, amused.

Jisung jumped in surprise. “Holy shit, when did you get here?” He looked back down and said, “And I’m not talking to the _ground_ , I think there’s a kitten down here.”

As Hyunjin walked closer, he saw that Jisung was standing over a manhole grate, his canvas bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing dark jeans and a heather grey Keopi Kong shirt, suggesting he had either just finished a shift or was about to start one. He had one headphone in his right ear, the other dangling around his chest as he investigated the ground in front of him. He pointed to a small fluff of off-white fur, just barely visible in the top corner of the manhole’s grate. 

“I can’t see all of the little guy,” Jisung said. “But I heard a whimper and I can definitely see a leg. That looks like a leg to you too, right? Anyway, if I didn’t help a cat in need, I think Minho would actually disown me. At the very least, he’s revoke my godfather status.” 

“Your what?” Hyunjin asked.

“Godfather status,” Jisung said, matter-of-fact. “I’m Dori’s godfather.” 

“Of course you are.” Hyunjin responded.

Jisung looked back down at the concrete, weighing his options. With a sigh, he plucked the other headphone from his ear and started to wind the cord around his hand. He stuffed the headphones and his phone in his bag, dropping it to the ground before looking up at Hyunjin. 

“Well,” he sounded reluctant. “Do you think you could help me lift this off?”

Hyunjin nodded, setting down his bag next to Jisung’s. The blonde made a show of swinging his arms back and forth like he was warming up for a swim meet, flailing and stretching with grandeur. When he seemed properly psyched up, Hyunjin laughed and gripped the left side of the grate as Jisung grabbed the right. The boys both pulled until they felt the side lift up with a metallic _clang_! 

Hyunjin was starting to feel the adrenaline from the potential rescue of a furry friend- _oh my god, would Seungmin let them keep it?_ \- when Jisung shrieked and let go of his side, the force of the grate pulling at Hyunjin’s arms. 

“Oh my god, put it back down!” he screeched.

Hyunjin strained to hold the grate himself. “But we haven’t gotten the kitten out yet?”

“It’s-” Jisung babbled wildly. “It’s not!”

Hyunjin dropped the gate back into place just as he heard an angry hissing coming from below. The commotion had woken up the creature, who scurried from its place into view. Hyunjin’s eyes grew wide looking down at it. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes to get a better look.

“That’s a pretty big ki-” Hyunjin started to say, but Jisung interrupted him by pulling on his sleeve.

“It’s a _possum_ , Hyunjin! It’ll bite the shit out of us!”

The two boys jumped back so quickly they both fell over, just as the possum let out a final perturbed hiss and curled back up to continue its nap. Hyunjin sat up, bewildered by the sudden turn of events. He looked over to Jisung, who was laying on his back, looking up at the clouds and shaking a bit. For a moment, Hyunjin was worried that he had been bitten or something, but then he realized Jisung’s shaking was the result of wild giggling. Still a little winded from holding up the grate, Jisung slowly sat up, tears forming in his eyes with the intensity of his laughter. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” he giggled. “I’m so sorry. I almost got us both rabies.”

In spite of himself, Hyunjin started laughing too. Ignoring the fact that they were sitting on a dirty street in an alley, the two boys fell into peals of laughter for a few more minutes. They almost collected themselves, but then they would hear a little “ _hiss_!” from the general direction of the grate and start laughing all over again. 

Finally, they were able to catch their breath and slow their heart rates from the shock of it all. As they became quiet, Hyunjin looked down at his watch and was surprised at how late the day had grown. His laughing had strained his throat, and he tried clearing it a few times. He coughed twice. 

“Oh, here,” Jisung said. “I don’t have any water, but do you want some hot chocolate?” Hyunjin looked confused, but Jisung just dragged his bag close to him, rummaging around in it and pulling an old reusable coffee thermos from his bag. 

“I made some before my shift ended this morning,” he said proudly. “It’s even got some caramel syrup in it.” 

“Fancy,” Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s barely the beginning of fall, though, is it really hot chocolate weather?” 

“What _I’m_ hearing-” Jisung looked indignant. “-is that you _don’t_ want any of this delicious cocoa.”

Hyunjin let out one last cough, then said, “...I would like some, yes.” 

Jisung grinned, handing the thermos over to him. The two brushed themselves off and started walking toward the bus station together, talking about nothing much in particular. Hyunjin noticed that when Jisung walked, he would sometimes tap out beats against his thigh with his fingers. He wondered what kind of melody he was hearing in his head. When they reached the bus stop, Hyunjin handed the thermos back and Jisung offered a small smile, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. 

“Do you wanna grab dinner?” Hyunjin blurted out. “Not that the cocoa wasn’t great, I’m just kind of hungry after almost dying.” 

“Yeah,” Jisung said, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

✩ ✩ ✩

“So you missed your second shift because along the way you thought you found a kitten, ran into Hyunjin, convinced him to help you in your rescue mission, the rescue became a rabies scare, you almost got bitten by a wild animal, then you went on a date.”

Felix was grinning from his spot on their hideous couch, leaning into a cushion with his legs across his boyfriend’s lap. Changbin was munching on some popcorn as Felix teased Jisung, the movie they had been watching long forgotten. 

“It was not a _date_ ,” Jisung insisted. “And we weren't even that close to being attacked by a rabid animal. I had it under control.”

“Twenty bucks says Jisung screamed and ran away.” Felix muttered.

“I did not!” Jisung insisted. That, of course, was exactly what he had tried to do, but fell over in his escape. They didn’t need to know that, though. 

“Well, what did you guys do after you ‘handled’ the rabid creature?” Changbin asked.

“We just got some ramen at that place near the bus stop.”

“Sharing a meal, breaking bread.” Changbin said sagely.

“Seungmin ended up texting me an hour into dinner asking how the ramen was,” Jisung laughed. “Apparently Hyunjin had butt-dialed him while we were eating.”

“Who butt-dials in this day and age?” Changbin asked. 

“Hyunjin, apparently,” Jisung said. “His phone is kind of shitty and he always puts it in his back pocket so when he sits it calls his most recent contact. I told Seungmin that’s what he gets for being in his favorites list.” 

“Did he hear anything interesting?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows. 

“ _No_ ,” Jisung huffed. “There wasn’t anything like that going on. Seungmin said the voicemail hit like twenty minutes long before it finally cut off- most of it was just Hyunjin slurping his overpriced noodles.” 

“Speaking of price,” Felix said, eyes bright. “Who paid?”

Jisung blushed, and that was all it took for Felix to break out in a chorus of “ _oooh_ ”. Jisung put an end to the conversation by walking to his room, insisting that he needed to get some sleep before taking the early shift the next morning to make up for his no-show that afternoon. Changbin seemed to have mercy on him, turning back to the movie and pulling Felix into the deformed couch cushions.

As Jisung pulled his blackout curtains shut that night, he thought to himself about the evening he had spent with Hyunjin. While they had originally planned to just have a quick dinner, it somehow had turned into an hours-long discussion of their art projects. He had talked with other people about his music before, of course, but those were always other musicians. Chan and Changbin were perfect for bouncing ideas around, but there was something about talking with someone who looked at art in a different way that was exciting and new. 

Sitting down in his swivel chair, he tried to remember the last time he felt creatively free. Not pressured to just crank out a song he could sell and make rent, but working on something for himself, with his whole soul. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the internship because his work wasn’t really _him_ anymore. 

He used to spend afternoons just pouring himself into his lyrics. He would sit at his desk, cheap recording equipment set up _just so_ , and finish a song without any doubts. He would immediately share it with his friends, proud and excited about the joy of creating something brand new. After what happened, he didn’t share with anyone anymore- his Doraemon plushie was the only one getting sneak peaks of his work these days. Making music was like pulling teeth for a bit, his desk gaining a small layer of dust. It was getting easier, sure, but for a long time he couldn’t even pick up a pen without shaking. 

The last time he had tried to be open with someone outside of his close friend group had been… painful. Still, he wanted to try, because when Hyunjin spoke about his pottery and paintings, he got a sparkle in his eyes that Jisung had never seen before. If he was being honest, he initially thought that visual art could be kind of boring, but the way that Hyunjin excitedly had ranted about glosses and brushstroke patterns had made him feel intrigued. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Hyunjin had asked. 

Jisung looked up from the menu, intrigued. “Yeah, shoot.”

“I’ve kind of been in a creative rut lately,” he said, a little embarrassed. “The only time I’ve been putting out really good work is after we hang out. I think maybe it’s because you’re an artist too, in a way? Like, your creativity rubs off on me.”

“Well,” Jisung smiled in spite of himself. “If you’re going to use me as your special muse-” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. 

“-the least you can do is buy me some food.”

Hyunjin snorted, but his eyes were bright. “Deal.”

At the end of the meal, Hyunjin had indeed picked up the tab. As the two prepared to part ways, Jisung grabbed Hyunjin’s shoulder. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” he admitted. “I think you’re making my work better too.” 

The smile Hyunjin gave him in response had inspired at least two new stanzas that night.

✩ ✩ ✩

The third day of November, Hyunjin woke up to a pounding on his door. When it became clear that Seungmin wasn’t going to answer it, he huffed and dragged himself out of bed. Whoever thought coming by at nine in the morning on a weekend had another thing coming. 

“ _What is_ -” he started to yell. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a wide-eyed Jisung in his doorway, hand still raised in a fist ready to knock. 

“Oh, uh, it’s you,” Hyunjin said. The blonde boy frowned. _Smooth_ , Hyunjin internally kicked himself. “Uh, I mean, what are you doing here?”

Jisung had the decency to look a little sheepish. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s kind of early,” he said. “And I swear I’m not stalking you, Minho gave me your address and-”

“How does Minho have my address?” Hyunjin asked.

“Seungmin,” Jisung said. “They’re, like, really good bros now.”

“Bros…” 

“That’s what Minho tells me,” Jisung rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I got tickets last minute to this art showcase thing, and it starts at ten which is why I’m banging on your door before noon on a weekend, like a monster. I figured it might be something you’re into.”

Hyunjin blinked slowly, trying to get his brain to start. He was pretty useless before his morning latte (or cold brew, when Seungmin wasn’t home to scold him on caffeine intake again). After a second, it clicked. 

“Wait, are you talking about the showcase at _Dawning_?” Hyunjin asked, eyes growing wide. “The gallery downtown, near the train station?”

“Yeah,” Jisung said. “One of my friends from college came by Koepi Kong during my shift last night and we got to talking, since I hadn’t seen him since I came left for my gap semester-”

“You took a gap?” Hyunjin asked.

Jisung winced, but ignored the question.

“-so we haven’t seen each other in a minute. He asked what I was up to, and I told him I was still pretty involved in the music scene, so he asked if I had any artsy friends that might enjoy going,” Jisung shifted on his feet. “Apparently his mom is good friends with one of the gallery owners so she always gets a pair of tickets to the shows they have. He doesn’t give shit about art stuff, so he said I should take them.”

Hyunjin tried not to show his excitement, but a squeal escaped him before he could stifle it. He had to focus hard to not break out into a happy dance. 

“Is that a yes?” Jisung chuckled.

“ _Yes_ ,” Hyunjin said, beaming. “Dawning is awesome, honestly it’s one of my favorite galleries around here, but it’s kind of on the smaller side so the events sell out _fast_. This showcase in particular is supposed to be amazing- I was trying to find resell tickets for weeks because they sold out in like a day! I can’t believe you got your hands on them.”

“Ah,” Jisung gripped the back of his neck, embarrassed at the sudden rush of positive attention. “It’s really not a big deal. Felix was on shift, too, while we were talking. He said you’d probably be interested. It’s all on him, really. The tickets would just go to waste otherwise.” 

“Let me get ready real quick, and then we can head over!”

Hyunjin pulled Jisung into his apartment, so focused on the prospect of art that he didn’t consider that this was the first time the boy had been to his home. As he darted back into his room to speed-shower and change, he called over his shoulder, “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be fast!”

Jisung decided to sit on the couch, drumming his fingertips on the armrest. Hyunjin and Seungmin’s apartment was nicer than his and Felix’s, but not by a whole lot. Their navy couches and chairs at least seemed to match, which was more than he could say for the forest green and mustard yellow abominations in his own living room. They had a dark maroon rug, inevitably flecked with paint stains, but it gave the room a certain sense of comfort. 

There was art on the walls and a few vases on the table, very clearly Hyunjin’s work. Jisung looked over the framed sketches hanging behind the couch- a small brick home, watercolor flowers growing in front of the mailbox. A baseball diamond, a cloud of dust rising near second base. A small, fluffy dog running on the sand beside the ocean. There was a warmth in the way that Hyunjin drew, and for a moment Jisung felt more at home in this apartment than his own painfully bare one. 

He heard Hyunjin turn on the shower in his bathroom, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He figured he should try to learn a little bit about the gallery, since it seemed like Hyunjin was a big fan. The website for Dawning was monochrome, but when he selected any of the tabs, the screen exploded in color. It seemed to be a smaller gallery, as Hyunjin had mentioned, but with a pretty big following if their social media numbers were anything to go by. Photos of sculptures and paintings and photographs filled his phone, and Jisung didn’t quite _get_ all of them, but some seemed interesting enough. 

When his friend Daehwi had offered him the tickets, he had initially turned him down.

“Dude, I appreciate it a lot,” he had said. “But I don’t think oil paintings are really my thing.”

“No worries man, it’s not my thing either,” Daehwi laughed. He settled back into the barstool he had pulled up to the counter. “My mom is always trying to get me to go to these things, but I have plans tomorrow anyways.” 

“You’re not taking them, Ji?” Felix had asked, setting an iced coffee down on the counter for their friend. “Hyunjin would probably like them!”

“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Jisung wasn’t sure why a blush rose to his cheeks, but he nodded anyways. “You’re right, actually, he probably would be into that.”

Daehwi had raised his eyebrows, but Felix shook his head fervently behind Jisung, squashing any questions. In the end, Jisung had left with dinner plans with an old friend and tickets to a showcase that he knew nothing about. Just as he started to read about the history of the gallery, Hyunjin popped his head out of his room, hair still a bit wet. 

“Is there a dress code for this gallery?” he asked. 

“Uh,” Jisung blinked, looking down to his own outfit of a blue long sleeve shirt and overalls. He tried to ignore the scuffs on his sneakers. “I don’t think so? I didn’t know there _were_ dress codes for galleries, to be honest.”

Hyunjin huffed, unhappy without a clear direction for his outfit. In the end he settled on one of his black pairs of slacks and a maroon button down. He tried to dress it up a bit, just in case, with a black beret and a statement belt. He rushed out of his room and Jisung leaned forward on the couch, handing over two glossy tickets. 

“So it starts at ten, this will get you guys in,” he said. “Is Seungmin even home? I didn’t hear him while you were getting ready.”

Hyunjin looked confused. “You don’t want to go with me?”

“Me?” Jisung asked. “Oh, I just figured you’d want to take Seungmin, or one of your art friends-”

“I want to go with you,” Hyunjin said. “You’re the reason I even get to go, after all.”

“I don’t know much about visual art.” Jisung admitted. He tried to ignore how sweaty his hands suddenly felt. 

“That’s why you have me!” Hyunjin waved his hand in the air, unfazed. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Now let’s go, I don’t want to be late!”

Jisung rose up from the couch slowly, a bit hesitant. He hadn’t even considered that Hyunjin would want him to come with him. This felt deceivingly like a date, or at the very least something that only _close_ friends would do. He could feel himself slipping back into his old self for a moment. The Jisung that he was at twenty, bright eyed and willing to be vulnerable. Where he would usually crush out any thought of opening up to someone else, he had to admit that the idea of spending the day with this boy that had very quickly settled into his life was exciting.

Just as his thoughts were threatening to overwhelm him, push him away again, something in the way that Hyunjin was smiling at him made him take that first step forward.

Each step after felt a little easier. 


	4. dawning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends :)
> 
> the songs that inspired this chapter are "Empty" by Yoste, "Juicy" by Emmett Kai, and "Push My Luck" by Chainsmokers

Dawning was smaller than Jisung had anticipated, but Hyunjin looked properly starstruck nonetheless. A small brick building with bright yellow doors, the space was unassuming, but warm and inviting. When they arrived, a small line had already formed outside the gallery. 

“The artist, Jihyo, specializes in oil paintings,” Hyunjin explained. “She graduated from the same program I’m in now, like six years ago maybe? Her work is focused on different parts of nature, like trees and the ocean and stuff. One of my favorite pieces she ever made was this sculpture she formed out of river rocks- it was a commentary piece about water conservation, and it was gorgeous.”

“Gotta love rocks,” Jisung laughed, “Are we going to see more sediment today?”

“Sadly, no,” Hyunjin sighed, completely serious. “But, it’s still going to be incredible. This showcase is specifically looking at clouds- like, the way that they shape and move. It’s a collection of oil paintings celebrating cloud formation, it’s going to be so _cool_!”

Jisung smiled in spite of himself- Hyunjin’s energy was completely contagious. There was a sparkle in his eyes when he spoke about art, voice high and rushed, as though he couldn’t wait to get all of the words out. He was completely in his element, dissecting artistic expression and thriving on the energy of a new creative project. Looking at him, Jisung had to focus on vocalizing his thoughts coherently. 

“Why is it so early, though?” he asked. “I don’t know a ton about the art world, but don’t showcases usually happen in the evening?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin nodded. “Most usually have an opening night, then are open for a few weeks during the day. This one, though, is only going to be here for a few hours.”

“Is that why tickets are so hard to get?” Jisung asked. 

“Exactly,” Hyunjin nodded. “It’s only going to be open for those few hours on one day at each gallery she visits. She said it’s because she painted these clouds in the morning, so that’s when they should be seen- so we get the same feeling she got when she first saw them.”

Jisung wasn’t sure he quite _got_ the logic behind that, much preferring to do his deep thinking in the late night hours with a bag of cheetos open on his desk, but Hyunjin was buzzing with anticipation so he just nodded along. When the doors opened, everyone filed in to walk past the paintings. Hyunjin grabbed his hand to navigate through the crowd, and Jisung had to choke down a gasp.

_Bros can hold hands,_ he thought to himself. After all, he and Felix were practically attached at the hip in their apartment, and they were like brothers. This was normal, he was sure of it. 

Jisung wasn’t sure what he was expecting inside the gallery hall, but he was pleasantly surprised nonetheless. What could have been kind of boring paintings of clouds took on new life as Hyunjin explained the specific brushstrokes the artist had used, the types of paint colors. He was practically buzzing with excitement. The first painting they stopped in front of had a bright blue shy, clouds looking plump and dark, the promise of rain on the horizon. Jisung could almost smell the moisture in the air. 

“You see this color, this specific grey, right here?” Hyunjin pointed to a corner of the canvas. “Jihyo is a pro at blending, obviously, and she always includes this one particular grey in all of her paintings. She said it’s the color of her bedroom, and she always wants her pieces to feel like they have a piece of her home in them.”

“I kind of love that idea,” Jisung admitted. “It kind of reminds me how sometimes I leave messages in my songs.”

“Oh, really?” Hyunjin raised his eyebrows. “How do you do that?”

“Every song has a baseline, right?” He explained. “Well, sometimes, if it’s a song specifically for somebody or something I want to express subtly, I give the song an extra twenty or so seconds of silence at the end. When there’s silence like that, people will usually just skip to the next one.”

Hyunjin laughed. “Yeah, I do that.”

“But,” Jisung continued. “If you _know_ the message is there, and you wait for it, after those seconds of silence I’ll add in some beats at the end- like morse code- tapping out a message.”

Hyunjin looked enthralled. “That is so cool!”

“Yeah,” Jisung shrugged, trying not to be too visibly proud of himself for impressing Hyunjin. “It’s just on a few here and there, no big deal.”

“What’s been your favorite one?” Hyunjin asked. Jisung thought for a moment. 

“Probably on my song _I See_ ,” he said. “It’s how I told Chan that I was graduating on time- he was so excited he played it over four times. That was one of the easier ones, though, because I only had to include one word- ‘graduation’. He heard the beats and googled it so fast, then started hollering and hugging me.”

“Cute,” Hyunjin laughed. “If that one was easy, then what’s been the hardest one to make?” 

“One for an ex, actually,” Jisung admitted. “It was a longer message.”

“ _Ohh_ , what was it?” Hyunjin’s eyes widened. “Like a love declaration?”

“Ah, no nothing like that,” Jisung looked down, trying not to remember the beats, still so clearly ingrained in his mind. “I don’t really want to talk about if, if that’s okay.” 

“No biggie,” Hyunjin nodded, seemingly unbothered. “Let me tell you about this next piece then, I think those people hogging the cumulonimbus painting are finally moving!”

Jisung appreciated him not pressing the issue, and he nodded along as Hyunjin excitedly explained the background of each of the pieces. Hyunjin dragged him from piece to piece, gesturing to his favorite parts with the excitement of a child. By the end of the showcase, Jisung’s feet hurt a bit but he knew much more about cloud formations than he ever thought possible. 

The artist herself appeared for a few minutes near the end, giving a short speech about the importance of staying true to yourself in art. Hyunjin was all wide eyes and bright smiles, drinking in every bit of advice she offered. Although they might express their artistic abilities differently, Jisung felt like he understood what she was talking about; to be truly genuine in art, that was the key. The key he’d been missing for a while, lately.

When the showcase ended around noon, the pair wandered over to a nearby outdoor market. The smell of fried snacks and grilling meat filled the air, and Jisung was mortified when his stomach let out an audible growl. 

“Of course, we can’t go home without eating!” Hyunjin had insisted. “Let me repay you for the tickets.”

It had taken approximately ten seconds for Jisung to agree, the promise of food too enticing to give up. They had ended up sitting along the Han river with bento boxes full of meat and vegetables, kimchi and rice. Hyunjin screamed loudly when a bug landed on his shoe, but other than that they munched on their meals in comfortable silence. 

“I was meant to be here,” Jisung said when he finished eating. He gestured to the view with grandiose. “The river is named after me, after all.”

“No, it’s not.” Hyunjin snorted. 

“It’s the _Han_ river, Hyunjin.” he insisted.

“It’s not the _Han Jisung_ river.” the taller boy retorted.

“Silence, little picasso,” Jisung shushed him. “The river king is enjoying the quiet.”

“You’re the one who started talking!” Hyunjin laughed. 

Jisung giggled, pulling his thermos out of his bag as the two finished up their lunches. He handed it over to Hyunjin, gesturing for him to take it. 

“Hot chocolate again?” Hyunjin asked, but Jisung shook his head. 

“Tea this time, we got a new type in our shipment yesterday,” he said. “It’s an herbal blend, hints of peach I think?” 

They both took a few sips, and Jisung looked pleased with himself when Hyunjin nodded enthusiastically. 

“I like the tea,” Jisung said as he screwed the top back on. “But I hate these ugly mug things that we sell at Keopi Kong. I wish we had more unique ones.”

“Like bedazzled ones?” Hyunjin teased. 

“Obviously,” Jisung rolled his eyes. “No, not bedazzled ones. I just mean that I feel like every customer that comes in has this same plain thing. I get tired of looking at the same stuff every day, it’s boring.”

“If I wasn’t so swamped with program work, I would make you one.” Hyunjin said. He picked up the thermos, turning it over in his hands.

“I haven’t worked on something this, well, _useful_ in awhile,” he admitted. “I’ve been so swamped with abstract pieces for this class I’m in, but I used to make mugs and bowls and stuff when I first started learning about pottery. I thought it was so cool that I could take this blob, just a literal chunk of mud, and create something that somebody could use every day. Pottery was one of the first things I fell in love with, I think.”

“That’s cool.” Jisung said, looking across the river. 

“Wait,” Hyunjin said with a smile. “Did you just admit that I’m cool?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. “Don’t push your luck.”

✩ ✩ ✩

The next Saturday, Hyunjin was once again woken up earlier than he would have liked. This time, it was Seungmin blasting his music that had pulled him from a rather confusing dream about a Totoro pinata. That, in and of itself, was rare- Seungmin usually spent his Saturday mornings in the library, going over his notes for the upcoming week. Hyunjin turned over in his bed, looking for the small clock on his nightstand. It was ten in the morning, which was, in his opinion, too early for Taeyeon’s new single to be blaring through their apartment. 

Pulling himself out of bed with a groan, he threw on a hoodie and shuffled out to the kitchen. He was surprised to find not only his roommate but also Minho, who was currently singing into a dirty whisk with his eyes closed in concentration. Hyunjin had to admit, the guy had a killer falsetto.

“Oh, shit,” Seungmin said, noticing Hyunjin in the room. “I’m so sorry we woke you up. I told Minho it was too loud.”

“Throwing me under the bus, bro!” he yelled. Seungmin just smirked.

“What are we making, _bros_?” Hyunjin asked, sleepily pulling himself up onto one of the barstools. If he was going to be awake, he at least deserved some food.

“Mistakes!” Minho laughed. “Well, we were _trying_ to make pancakes but Seungmin basically turned them into soup.”

“Too much butter?” Hyunjin asked, clearly having experienced this before. 

“Too much butter,” Minho sighed. “So, I’m taking over. Hope you like bacon and eggs.”

“Always,” Hyunjin replied. “I wouldn’t say no to some coffee either.”

Seungmin turned to their French press, grabbing Hyunjin’s favorite- a personalized mug with a photo of his childhood dog- and pouring him a cup. He slid the mug toward him, Kkami side facing him. Hyunjin took a long sip. 

“Not that I’m not glad you’re here,” he said. “But what are you doing in our apartment so early?”

“I slept on your couch!” Minho said. Hyunjin squinted at his roommate.

“That wasn’t very gentlemanly of you, Seungmin.”

“My room is full of PT equipment,” Seungmin rolled his eyes, face red. “Besides, I didn’t know he was coming.”

“What?” Hyunjin scrunched his face in confusion. 

“You forgot to lock the door last night, Hyunjin,” Seungmin teased. “He just walked in while I was watching _Extraordinary You._ We’re lucky it wasn’t a serial killer.”

“Ah, shit,” Hyunjin looked sheepish. “I’m sorry, I was so exhausted last night after working in the studio all day. Why did you randomly drop in, Minho?”

“Well, I was supposed to go clubbing with Changbin and Felix last night to celebrate my ankle being back to perfection, but Lix caught the flu at his internship so Changbin decided to go over to the twins’ apartment to take care of him,” Minho said. “Jisung will inevitably get it unless he gets out of there soon, the blondies cuddle way too much for germs to not thrive in that place. Anyway, I was already on the bus when Changbin texted me and I figured, seeing you guys would be fun.”

“But you were already asleep,” Seungmin said. “So he just watched my drama with me.”

“Truly riveting stuff.” Minho said with flair. 

“You just ate popcorn the whole time!” Seungmin laughed. 

“Truly riveting popcorn.” Minho said. He refilled Hyunjin’s cup with more coffee, who took it happily.

Seungmin snorted, but looked pleased nonetheless. “We were thinking of going to the arcade later, do you wanna come?”

Seungmin looked at Hyunjin pointedly, so Hyunjin quickly shook his head. 

“Sorry,” he said, “I’m actually busy today.”

“You sure?” Minho asked.

“Yeah, you guys have fun. Seungmin is _shit_ at pinball,” he said with a wink. “So you can make fun of him for that for me.”

A hand towel flew across the room, hitting him square in the forehead. Minho laughed before turning back to the stove as Hyunjin grinned into his coffee. He didn’t _really_ have plans today, but he was sure he could figure something out. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Jisung was holed up in his room, furiously wiping down every surface in sight with Lysol. Felix hadn’t been in there since he started feeling sick, and Changbin had banished his boyfriend to his own room in an attempt at quarantining the illness, but Jisung didn’t want to take any chances. He knew if he ventured out, Felix would inevitably ask him to come cuddle, and he wasn’t sure he could deny him. His friend’s voice always took on a terribly sad whine when the boy fell ill, and Jisung was a sucker for anyone who needed cheering up. As he started toying with the idea of wearing a face mask in his own apartment, his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” 

“ _Hey Jisung, it’s Hyunjin_.” 

“Yeah, I’ve got caller ID, dude.”

“ _Wow, so aggressive for someone who is trapped in a germ palace_.”

“Ah, true. You heard about Lix?”

“ _Yeah. I figured you might want to get out of there for a bit. I’m working on some sketches at my apartment, if you wanna come over here and do some work_.”

Jisung hesitated. He didn’t usually work with other people around, and this would be a lot different from writing when he was in a studio. However, the lingering fear of the flu and a confusing urge to see Hyunjin made the decision for him.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Do you and Seungmin want me to bring anything?”

“ _Um, it’s actually just me. Seungmin and Minho are out doing something today_.”

_“Bros”_ , Jisung thought to himself with a smirk. 

“Okay then, I’ll be over in like twenty minutes.”

“ _Sounds good, don’t bring any cooties!_ ”

By the time Jisung arrived at the door of Hyunjin and Seungmin’s apartment, he was feeling a little nervous. Which was _stupid_ , he thought to himself, because he was just hanging out with his friend. As he weighed the pros and cons of just going home and hoping he wouldn’t catch the flu, Hyunjin opened the door.

“Hey, you made it.” he said.

He was wearing a grey hoodie and black sweatpants that were, of course, stained with paint. As he walked into the apartment, Jisung wondered if the boy had any clothes that had remained unscathed by his artwork. It was kind of infuriating that he made stained clothes look so good. 

“What are you working on?” he asked. 

Hyunjin sat down in one of the navy chairs, pulling a sketchbook into his lap. He gestured to the page, a smearing of charcoal. 

“Primary sketches, today,” he sighed. “I need to put together another sculpture for my final practical exam, but I’m having trouble coming up with the right theme.”

Jisung took a spot on the couch, pulling his legs under him. He pulled his lyric book out, tossing the canvas bag under the coffee table. A strange feeling washed over him as he looked at his friend glaring a hole into his sketchbook. He thought back to their dinner together, where Hyunjin had shyly admitted that Jisung’s work inspired him. Now, he just looked frustrated. Jisung wanted to help, and he thought he might know a way how. If he could be brave. 

“Um,” he stuttered. “I could, like, read over some of my lyrics for you?”

“Oh,” Hyunjin looked surprised. “You’re okay with me hearing your work?”

“Just a stanza or two,” Jisung tried to sound cocky. He was pretty sure Hyunjin saw right through the act. “But not if you make a big deal out of it, I won’t.”

“Definitely,” Hyunjin grinned. “Let’s hear it!”

The afternoon passed quickly like that, Jisung rapping a few lines at a time of some of his songs and Hyunjin sketching furiously in response. Jisung was surprised to find that sharing his work was exciting, not exactly as terrifying as he had previously worried. Every time he shared a piece that he felt especially proud of, Hyunjin would give him the reaction he wanted, offering an “ _ooh_ ” or an “ _ahh_ ” at all the right spots. 

Jisung found himself laughing through the hours, giggling at the way Hyunjin would twist his pencil around in his fingers while he was brainstorming and watching the way that he scrunched his eyebrows together in concentration while he sketched. They took one break, ordering take out from the restaurant down the street. When the delivery person arrived, Jisung had insisted on paying. Munching on some fried rice, the two fell down the rabbit hole of YouTube. It was only after their sixth compilation video that they finally set back to work. 

Whenever Hyunjin made a mistake while sketching, he would huff out a loud sigh- if Jisung didn’t immediately give him a look of recognition, he would sigh again, louder. It took a few rounds of aggressive exhaling before Jisung picked up on the game, but eventually he understood that he needed to give Hyunjin a sympathetic nod or a pat on the shoulder whenever he let out one of his exasperations. He played Hyunjin two of his new demos, hands sweaty and heart racing at sharing work that wasn’t quite yet polished. By the time the sun had set, Hyunjin had a much clearer vision of his final project and Jisung had a new swelling confidence in his latest songs. 

“That last song was my favorite of them all,” Hyunjin admitted. “I think it’s some of your best work.” 

“I know,” Jisung said, crossing his arms. “I’m a genius.”

“I take back every kind thing I’ve ever said.” Hyunjin deadpanned. 

“Too late!” Jisung insisted. “Your muse is thriving.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin laughed. “So you’re really my muse now?”

“Yeah, obviously,” Jisung smiled in that way that he rarely let other people see. Hyunjin felt his stomach do a little flip. “And you’re kind of mine, too.”

✩ ✩ ✩

Midway through December, Jisung insisted that the group get together. 

“Look, you guys are stressed out about finals,” he had said, sipping on an americano at the end of his shift. The group was perched in their usual spots, gripping mugs to keep their hands warm. “And the rest of us are, like, always stressed about work. We deserve to let off some steam.”

“Ji’s right,” Felix said. “If I have to look at my computer one more minute I’m going to lose my mind, and I’ll never finish this stupid game.”

“What should we do?” Changbin asked. 

“Since it’s winter,” Hyunjin leaned forward. “Can we please go ice-skating? It’s been years since I did it, and now we’ve got a big group, so it’ll be more fun. The place a town over even had fire pits outside the complex!”

Seungmin and Minho immediately agreed, with Felix and Changbin close behind them. Chan looked a little wary, but eventually agreed. Jeongin and Jisung were already looking up skating times on their phones. 

When the next weekend rolled around, Jisung found himself waiting outside of Keopi Kong for the rest of the group to arrive. The rink was a short bus ride away, and they all figured it would be easier to meet up at the cafe than try to all bus over separately. Especially since Changbin often got on the wrong bus, not that he would ever readily admit it. 

Everyone except Hyunjin and Seungmin had arrived, so Jisung pulled his phone out of the pocket of his outer jacket. 

“Are you calling them?” Minho asked. 

A mischievous streak rose in him, so Jisung suggested, “Why don’t you call instead? I’m sure Seungmin would answer in no time.”

“Yes, Jisung, friends answer the phone when other friends call,” Minho said, pulling out his phone with a flushed face. “Platonic friends calling platonic friends, platonically.”

Everyone turned their head when they heard a cell phone ringing nearby. The two roommates were turning the corner, Hyunjin waving dramatically. 

“We were almost here!” he insisted. “Seungmin changed three times!”

“Very platonic.” Jisung whispered to Minho, who blatantly ignored him. 

Seungmin smacked Hyunjin, but the boy just giggled. They all crowded around the front of the cafe, trying to avoid the wind.

“The next bus isn’t for another ten minutes,” Minho said as he pocketed his cell phone. “And the cafe closed early today for inspection, so get comfortable out here.”

Jisung noticed Hyunjin pouting, and felt that confusing pull in his chest again. He noticed that Hyunjin had started to shiver a bit, so he opened up his arms. Full of bravado, he wiggled his eyebrows and said, “Hop on in, Hyunjinnie.” very clearly believing that Hyunjin would not, in fact, hop in. 

Never one to back down from a challenge- or turn down warmth in the tundra that Korea had seemed to turn into- Hyunjin hopped forward and snuck his arms around Jisung’s waist. He let him envelop him in the down jacket, scooting forward to get a bit warmer. A blush crept up Jisung’s cheeks, but Hyunjin wasn’t sure if it was from the wind biting at them or the fact that he had his hands around the younger’s waist. Had Jisung always been this tiny? 

He must have zoned out, because suddenly the bus had pulled up and the others were calling at them to hurry up. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Hyunjin felt the jacket being placed gently over his shoulders. Looking up, he saw Jisung avoiding eye contact. “I’ve already got a jean jacket on, you can use that one,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”

Jisung was surprisingly good at ice skating, Hyunjin found, and they just about lost their minds laughing as they skated circles around the others. Felix had fallen down approximately three times since they started, and Chan was gripping the side rail with such force that his knuckles were white. Seungmin and Jeongin were moving at a leisurely pace, and Changbin was trying to help Felix off his butt for the upteenth time that night. 

“I am woefully unprepared.” Hyunjin complained. “I didn’t even think about gloves, my hands are frozen.”

Jisung hesitated, but then reached out his hand. He rubbed his hands together, generating some warmth, and pressed them to Hyunjin’s icy fingers. 

“Better?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin said. “It’s a lot warmer with someone else.” 

So if Jisung and Hyunjin held hands for a lap or two, nobody mentioned it. It was cold, after all. That’s all.

When they had all sufficiently skated to their hearts’ content (or reached the limits of the abuse Felix's tailbone would take from slamming on the ice), the group migrated outside the rink to the fire pits. In a stroke of brilliance, Seungmin had called ahead to reserve one of the sections for them, so they found their fire pit full of charcoal and kindling, ready for them to start it. 

Minho insisted on lighting the wood chips, Chan anxiously watching his every movement. Felix and Changbin decided to walk to the closest corner store to grab some marshmallows and various snacks. As they waited for their snack shipment, Jeongin tried pulling up a YouTube video on fire construction to help Minho along, but they eventually ended up just sparring with the sticks instead. 

Seungmin started organizing the chairs into a circle so they could all reach the potential fire, Hyunjin plopped down in the closest one he could reach. Jisung came over to him and sat down next to his right.

“You still warm enough?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiled. “Thanks, the jacket is a big help.”

“Once we get the fire started we should be fine, anyway,” Jisung shrugged. “I just really want a s’mores. I haven’t had one since I was a freshman in college- Felix and I made them over the stove in our dorm kitchen. May or may not have set off the fire alarm.”

As Hyunjin laughed at a story of Felix talking the two out of a dorm citation, the freckled boy and Changibin returned, bags full of s'mores supplies and a few bottles of soju. The fire finally roared to life when Chan took over, so the boys set to work creating their treats. 

Jeongin and Felix quickly got distracted, seeing how many marshmallows they could stuff in their cheeks. Seungmin threw a graham cracker at them, but Jeongin directed a pout his way and said, “I have to, I couldn’t do this with my braces!”

Seungmin turned to Felix, who shrugged. 

“ _I jus’ ‘ike ‘shmallows_.” he mumbled out through a stuffed mouth. 

For a moment it looked as though Seungmin was going to retort, but then he just sighed and grabbed a handful of the white blobs himself. A game of _chubby bunny_ soon broke out. As Jisung tried desperately to blow out the marshmallows that Minho had set on fire, Seungmin laughed and stoked the fire. Jeongin settled further into his seat, and gestured to the group.

“How did you guys all become friends?” he asked. 

“We all had a mutual interest.” Chan said. Jeongin looked unsatisfied. 

“What does that mean?” Jeongin asked. “Did someone just walk up and say _what’s up gays_?”

“Did you mean _guys_?” Chan asked.

“No,” Jeongin said. “I meant what I said.”

“They’re not all gay, though,” Minho said, looking puzzled.

“Yeah, this is bisexual erasure.” Changbin said.

“Yeah, Jeongin!” Hyunjin yelled with a laugh. The youngest just rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, some of you are bi kings, whatever. How did you all end up getting so close?”

“I minored in business management,” Chan said. “And I thought it would look good on my resumes to take a leadership position on campus, so I applied to become a Resident Assistant. I was a Junior in college working as a freshmen RA, so I was basically in charge of making sure Jisung and Felix didn’t burn down the building.” 

“We only set off the fire alarm four times!” Felix insisted. 

“In the _one_ year I was your RA, yes.” Chan responded. Seungmin snorted. 

“And my boyfriend at the time was an upperclassmen RA. Changbin and Minho lived on his hall, but not together.” Chan explained. “They both had random roommates that they didn’t really click with, so the three of us would hang out sometimes after the hall meetings, and just kind of became friends from there. Then Minho and Jisung became friends after the library incident, and our groups just kind of came together.”

“That’s nice,” Jeongin said. “I basically just hang out with Seungmin and Hyunjin, but I don’t have many other friends off campus. I just hang out with people in my program, mostly.”

“Well now you’ve got us!” Minho said, offering him a fist. Jeongin gave him a beaming smile and bumped his fist with a giggle. 

“That’s awesome that you guys have all been friends ever since then without killing each other.” Seungmin laughed. “Sometimes Hyunjin breathes too loud in the apartment and I want to disown him.”

“Hey!” Hyunjin yelled, but Seungmin was smiling fondly at him. 

“Well it wasn’t all sunshine and roses,” Jisung said. “We definitely fought sometimes.”

“And we lost touch for a bit,” Changbin said quietly. Felix took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “But we bounced back better than ever.”

“And-” Chan said with a smile. “Now our group’s even bigger.”

Jisung leaned toward the fire, his marshmallow turning a pleasant shade of light brown. He pulled the gooey sweet in between two graham crackers, and elbowed Hyunjin in the side. 

“Can you hand me a slab of chocolate?” he asked.

Hyunjin nodded, handing him the bag. 

Jisung constructed the s’more with the precision of a surgeon, inspecting it no less than thirty seconds before leaning back with a happy sigh. Just as Hyunjin started to consider making his own, he was surprised by Jisung shoving his perfect s’mores into his hands. 

“Um, here.” Jisung said. 

“Jisung,” Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows. “This is like, a perfect s’mores. Your artistic creation, your _s’mores baby_ . I can’t take your _baby_ from you.”

“Well my s’mores baby is the perfect temperature right now, and if you wait any longer it’ll stiffen up.” he insisted. “I want you to have it.”

“You really want me to have your baby?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Oh,” Jisung choked on his spit, shaking his head violently. “Um, I mean, I’ve had like five, uh, so if I eat any more I’ll die from the sugar rush.”

Hyunjin stood up dramatically, making a scene of showing the group how perfect the s’mores was. He lifted it into the air like Simba at the beginning of the Lion King, insisting the group all fawn over Jisung’s work. It was only once Jisung was a deep shade of pink that Hyunjin felt satisfied and took a bite. 

“Woah,” he said. “It’s seriously good, Ji.”

“Everything I make is good.” Jisung insisted. He was still flushed, but looked pleased. Hyunjin ate the rest of the s’mores while executing a little happy dance in his seat. Once he was done, he looked over and noticed Jisung’s eyes on him. 

“Um,” Jisung said. “You’ve got some chocolate on your face.”

Hyunjin started wiping his cheeks, embarrassed. “Did I get it?”

Jisung shook his head. He looked conflicted, but then leaned forward. He was so close that Hyunjin could feel the warm puffs of his breath in the cold night air, and he was so focused on the sudden change in proximity that he almost didn’t notice the boy reaching toward his face. 

“It’s right. . .” Jisung said, gently wiping the side of Hyunjin’s lip. “There.”

There was a beat of silence where the two boys stayed huddled together. Jisung’s finger was lingering on Hyunjin’s bottom lip. He was sure that his fingertips were buzzing, and he wondered if it was from the cold or the shock of how soft Hyunjin’s lips were. Jisung could catch the scent of peach soju on Hyunjin’s breath, and it was so sweet it was hard for him to form a coherent sentence. He wondered if he just leaned in, would he taste like peaches, too?

Suddenly, one of the other boys fell out of their chair with a loud thump. Jisung and Hyunjin jumped back comically fast, looking over to see that Felix had been trying to balance on one leg of his chair and failed miserably. Changbin was pinching his cheeks, pulling him back to a vertical position while wiping some dirt off his pants. Everyone’s attention was on Felix’s flop to the ground. Everyone, except Chan. 

As if he could feel the older boy’s eyes on him, Jisung jumped up to his feet. 

“I’m, uh,” Jisung stuttered. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.”

He scurried toward the main building, so fast that he left his coat and phone behind in his hurry. Hyunjin was still looking at him when Chan walked over and sat in the vacated seat. He folded Jisung’s jacket, placing the phone in the pocket so it didn’t get exposed to the cold. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t quite know how to broach the subject. Hyunjin offered him one of the half-empty soju bottles, which Chan took with a kind smile. 

“He seems happier lately,” Chan said. Hyunjin could tell that although his words were casual, there was a deeper meaning hidden in them. He took the bait.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Chan shook his head, a small frown flashing on his face so quickly Hyunjin wondered if he had imagined it. There it was again, that sneaking suspicion that there was something he wasn’t being told. 

“Nothing, I’m just glad Sungie’s happy,” Chan said. “He deserves it, after everything. He’s a good guy.”

“Everything, meaning?” Hyunjin prodded. 

“Ah, don’t mind me. Just getting in my own head,” Chan said. “Jisung is like my little brother, so I get a little overprotective of him. What matters is that he’s okay now- and we’ve got you, and Seungmin, and Jeongin too. We’re all alright, together.”

He clasped Hyunjin on the back, wide smile back on his face so quickly Hyunjin couldn’t help but wonder if he had imagined the pain he had seen. Chan got up and returned to his original seat, poking Changbin in the side until he agreed to take a shot with him.

Hyunjin felt lucky to have the guys in his life, and he was grateful for his new friends, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was part of the story he was missing. Maybe it was the artist in him, but he didn’t like to leave things unfinished. 

When Jisung returned, he sat back down and turned to Hyunjin with a small smile. He wanted to know the full story, but now didn’t feel like the time. Instead, he pulled out another pair of crackers, and handed Jisung the stick. 

“Another round of s’mores babies?” he asked.

“Only if we can share custody.” Jisung winked. 

“Deal.”


	5. thistle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs for this chapter are "Lucky Strike" by Troye Sivan, and "Sorry for Writing All the Songs About You" by Clara Mae. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Somehow, Hyunjin and Jisung fell into a comfortable routine. It was funny, Hyunjin thought, how quickly the group of friends had grown close after the way it had all started out. Over the past few months, he and Jisung had developed an almost symbiotic relationship, inspiring each other and workshopping their pieces together. 

The soft afternoon light filtering through the art studio’s small windows made Jisung’s hair look more golden than blonde, Hyunjin thought to himself. While the studio was usually closed on weekends, Hyunjin had a key since he was in the MFA program, and the two friends had taken to working on their projects in the studio on Sunday afternoons. Since nobody else was in the building, they were able to play music as loud as they liked, and Jisung had taken to creating a new playlist for them each week. He tried to curate the songs to relate to whatever project Hyunjin was working on, but inevitably by the end of the playlist it would be almost exclusively his own music the two were working along to. 

Hyunjin leaned over, poking Jisung in the side with the dry side of his paintbrush. 

“I started on this watercolor after you played me that new track last night,” he said, gesturing to his paper. “Do you think the colors match the feeling you were trying to give?” 

Jisung considered the paper for a few moments. At first, the silence had made Hyunjin anxious every time he shared one of his pieces in progress. Now, though, he knew that Jisung was just giving the piece his full attention, taking in everything he could so that he could give comprehensive feedback. It was one of the things about the younger boy that Hyunjin quickly came to appreciate.

“Yeah, actually,” Jisung said with a thoughtful nod. “You know I’m usually more of a red guy, but the blues here are insane.”

He leaned forward, pointing to the corner of the painting. 

“I really like how you blended these two together, here.” Jisung said, eyes dancing across the page. “I feel like this could be the cover art for the song, that’s how spot on it is.” 

He smiled at Hyunjin, turning back to his own lyric book. 

Jisung would say things like that, sometimes. Just throwing in a huge compliment to Hyunjin’s pieces, completely throwing him off with his sincerity, then jumping right back into his work. At some point, Hyunjin realized, their sessions had stopped being just about getting inspiration for his work. This was a bit of a shock to him, because that’s how this had all started in the first place. To be honest, the constant praise he was getting on his pieces that he made during his afternoons with Jisung was a big boost to his confidence, but somewhere along the months together, their meet-ups had started to just be wanting to hang out with Jisung, being close with him. The art was just a bonus.

One time, during a particularly slow evening class, Hyunjin found himself lost in thought while his instructor offered tips on throwing. Hunched over the wheel, molding the clay into submission, Hyunjin found himself wondering what Jisung was up to- not because he wanted to work on art with him, but just because he missed him. Somehow, it was different than the way he missed Seungmin or Jeongin.

_ Huh _ , he thought to himself.  _ Weird _ . 

Where days had felt like they dragged on before, suddenly they were passing with speed. 

After the winter break, Hyunjin and Seungmin had invited everyone over to celebrate the New Year. The evening passed with tequila shots and a very messy game of Twister, and everyone struggled with getting up the next day. Hyunjin had found himself at the diner that Jisung and Minho had used the semester they were banned from the library, eating a greasy breakfast with Jisung to try and combat their hangovers. Jisung had pointed out their favorite booth, their names carved on the underside of the table. 

Spring brought a promotion for the roommates- Felix to full time at Strikeline, and Jisung as the newest manager at Keopi Kong. While it wasn’t exactly the music break he was hoping for, it was an improvement in terms of hours and the pay was better, so he was excited about having some extra spending money. Changbin had also been moved to full time at SilverStone, so Jisung was the lone friend working at the coffee shop. At least he now had full control over the shop playlist. 

He and Felix decided to celebrate his success by improving some of the more worse-for-wear parts of their apartment. Their shitty furniture stayed, but they decided to paint the walls, buy a rug, and get a new coffee table that could withstand their movie marathons. 

Hyunjin offered to help with the “renovation”, if it could even be called that. He decided to paint a mural on the living room wall of Jisung & Felix’s apartment as a gift- a galaxy scene, a sparkling collection of stars and the milky way. The mural sat on the far side of the living room, and it was a special little joy that Jisung got to indulge in every morning while he ate his breakfast. Felix, of course, screamed enthusiastically about how they were “ _ living in an art museum! _ ”, and insisted that all their friends come over to see Hyunjin’s work. He was a little embarrassed at all of the attention, but he appreciated the support from his friends. 

In April, they got a series of rainstorms that forced everyone inside for a few days on end. For Jisung, it was the perfect opportunity to crank out some tracks for his portfolio mixtape. Jisung holed up in the SilverStone building, Chan having slipped him an extra key and a copy of the schedule, showing when the back studio would be free. Some evenings, Hyunjin would come over after his classes finished. Jisung would let him in the room, but Hyunjin watched his creative process from afar, curled into the corner of the old couch. He found himself getting lost in the way Jisung’s fingers lingered over the piano keys, they way his eyes shut when he sang the hook of a song, the way he held one of his headphones to his ear, listening to the beat as he brainstormed. He really hoped that he would get the internship he so desperately wanted. 

By May, the sun was starting to become a more common occurrence. As Hyunjin worked on his final project for his first year of his graduate program, Jisung tried to mix colors for him. He found it to be much more difficult than he had first anticipated, so he relinquished his hold on the palate, tossing it into the sink to be washed and then used by someone with a better control over hues. The metallic smell of paint was so strong that they had to open one of the windows, and Jisung perched himself on the windowsill as he worked on mixing his latest song. 

“If I was a color,” Jisung mused. “What would I be?”

“Hmm,” Hyunjin hummed. “That’s a hard one.”

“I feel like I’d be a red, or like a badass orange.”

Hyunjin snorted, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so,”

“Well then what am I?” Jisung insisted. 

Hyunjin sat up, leaning back from his canvas. He thought for a moment, then pulled a new palate out and started dropping some oil paints onto it. He turned his back to Jisung so that he couldn't see what he was mixing up. He mixed the oils together slowly, trying to get the perfect shade. 

“Close your eyes,” Hyunjin said. “And put your hand out.”

Jisung looked suspicious, but obliged. He felt a small brush press onto the back of his hand. 

“Okay,” Hyunjin said. “Open your eyes.”

When Jisung blinked his eyes open, he found a small stripe of color on his hand, a soft lavender with grey undertones. 

“Yeah, not that I was thinking,” Jisung laughed. “It’s pretty, though. Why this color?”

Hyunjin scooted forward, taking Jisung’s hand in his own. He pointed to the swipe of paint. 

“This color is called ‘thistle’,” Hyunjin explained. “I first made it in my color theory class.” Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, confused. 

“Thistle?” he asked. 

“It’s named after this small, delicate little flower,” Hyunjin said thoughtfully. “It’s gorgeous- the petals are so unique and enticing, but if you grab it too fast you’ll cut yourself on its thorns. It’s got these sharp spikes on the stem, for its own protection. You have to handle it with care, but I think there’s something really beautiful about art that you have to be gentle with.”

Jisung was quiet. Hyunjin looked up, worried he had said too much. Jisung didn’t look angry, though. He looked thoughtful. 

“And that’s me?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin said. “I think so. On the outside, you look soft, but you’ve got spunk. You’re small, but you’re strong. You’re somebody who’s trust has to be earned, not just given freely. You don’t take kindly to people pushing you around, and you’ll bite back if someone grabs you too fast. You’ve got this protective barrier up, but on the inside you’ve got incredible depth.”

Jisung smiled, small. “You’re quite the perceptive one, aren’t you,” he said. “Hand me that-”

Jisung plucked a few colors from Hyunjin’s set, and before he could complain, Jisung had covered his eyes with one of his hands. He heard the other hand swirling some paints together, adding new shades to the thistle color. When Jisung removed his hand, Hyunjin saw that the palate was now a deep, dark blue. 

“That’s you,” Jisung said simply. “You look at it and think you know everything about it that you need to- it’s just blue, right?” He shook his head. “But then you get closer, and there’s more than you thought. It’s deeper, like the ocean. Mysterious. Hard to read.” He looked up. “But still it makes you feel safe.” 

Hyunjin didn’t know what to say, a bit shocked into silence. The moment felt heavy, but then Jisung let out a small giggle and picked up the brush again. 

“Here” he said. He painted a small stripe on the back of Hyunjn’s hand. “Now we match.”

Hyunjin lifted his hand, holding his swipe of blue next to Jisung’s soft purple. Jisung smiled, taking in how the two colors complimented each other.

“I guess I am a thistle.” Jisung whispered. “But if it’s this pretty, I don’t think I mind.”

Hyunjin didn’t wash the paint off all day. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Hyunjin was feeling things, but he wasn’t sure what they were yet. 

Things became a little clearer one afternoon in June, when Seungmin, Hyunjin, Minho, and Jisung met up at a Korean barbecue restaurant near Minho’s place. They were fighting over whether they should order pork belly or spicy bulgogi for their next round when Seungmin’s phone started ringing. 

“Sorry, you guys,” he said, silencing the ringer. “It’s one of the second year girls from my grad program.”

“Wait, Jia?” Hyunjin asked. When Seungmin nodded, he started laughing. 

“Oh my god, she is  _ obsessed _ with Seungmin,” Hyunjin said. “The first week she followed him around like a puppy. She couldn’t read a signal if it slapped her in the face.”

Seungmin snorted. “That’s an exaggeration,” he said. 

“Is not!” Hyunjin insisted. “She just doesn’t realize that she doesn’t have a chance with you. For someone in a kinesiology program, she sure hates sports.”

“I still can’t believe you were a jock.” Minho said with a smile. 

“I thought him joining the baseball team was poetic,” Hyunjin said. “Considering that he bats for both teams.”

Jisung burst into laughter, but Minho froze. Seungmin didn’t notice, and simply rolled his eyes. 

“So original,” he said. “The first time I’ve ever heard that joke. Definitely not one I heard  _ every day  _ in high school.”

Jisung and Hyunjin were still giggling when Seungmin got up to go to the bathroom, telling them, “Get both the pork belly  _ and _ the bulgogi- we’re goddamn adults, we deserve it.”

Jisung put in the order with their waiter, and when Seungmin was out of earshot, Minho whipped around to glare daggers at Hyunjin. 

“What?” Hyunjin asked, confused. “You didn’t want to get both?”

“You’re telling me,” Minho hissed, “This  _ whole _ time, he’s been into  _ dudes _ ?”

“Well, also girls,” Hyunjin said. “But yeah, he’s into dudes.”

“ _ Why _ didn’t anyone think to  _ tell _ me that?” Minho growled at him. Jisung burst into another bout of laughter, Hyunjin turning red. 

“I thought you knew?” he said sheepishly. “He flirts with you, like,  _ all _ the time. I thought it was obvious and you just weren’t interested.”

“What?” Minho said, eyes wild. “Look, when we first started hanging out you told me that story about his ex-girlfriend, and-”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s straight,” Hyunjin said. “He’s got an ex-boyfriend, too. Hyung, you’ve literally complimented the bi pride flag in our apartment.”

“I thought that was just  _ yours _ !” Minho said.

“No,” Hyunjin laughed. “We’re both bi.”

“That was not made clear!” Minho yelled.

By the time Seungmin made his way back to the table, blissfully unaware of the meltdown Minho had just had, Jiusng was doubled over in his seat, desperately trying to stop the giggles from tumbling from his mouth. Hyunjin tried not to think about how cute he was, instead focusing on the trainwreck that was Lee Minho.

“What’s so funny?” Seungmin asked. Hyunjin opened his mouth to explain, but Minho jumped in first. 

“Do you want to go on a date?” Minho blurted out. “With me?”

Seungmin’s eyes grew wide, blinking fast, but he recovered quickly. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Hyunjin nearly spit out his drink. Minho looked positively elated, and Jisung had given up on trying to stop his giggles, full-on belly laughing at this point. 

“Not that I’m not happy about this,” Seungmin said, looking at Jisung with confusion. “But, why so suddenly?”

“He thought you were a het,” Jisung laughed. “He  _ just found out _ you like guys.”

“And  _ who’s _ fault is that?” Minho howled. 

“Cute.” Seungmin said, looking over at Minho. He reached out and took his hand. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Walking back to their apartment, Hyunjin smacked Seungmin on the back. 

“I can’t believe how easy that was,” Hyunjin said, still shocked. “He found out you liked guys and asked you out in two minutes flat.”

“It took him long enough to figure out that I was flirting with him,” Seungmin blushed, but rolled his eyes. “It could be that easy for you, too.”

“Well,” Hyunjin cleared his throat. “I certainly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Seungmin said. “Like you and Jisung haven’t been awkwardly dancing around each other for almost a year now.”

Hyunjin laughed, but it kind of rubbed him the wrong way that day. Was it that obvious to everyone else how close the two were? Could other people feel the tension in the air, the stuffy feeling that kept him from saying things like  _ I could listen to your music forever  _ or  _ seeing you is my favorite part of the day. _ That wasn’t something you said to someone who was just a friend. 

“Well,” he said. “What would you suggest I do?”

Seungmin stopped in his tracks, standing in front of a tarot card shop. The neon lights from the welcome sign reflected off of his hair, stripes of pink dancing in the night. His eyes were completely unreadable, and Hyunjin found himself anxious to hear his thoughts. 

“Are you seriously asking?” he asked. “Like, honestly?”

“Not if you make a big deal about it,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “But yeah, I’d like to hear your opinion.”

Seungmin looked thoughtful. 

“Well, it depends on what you’re hoping for,” he said. “You always said you didn’t want to get into anything serious in grad school, but you haven’t been going downtown or anything since you became friends with Jisung. I feel like you’re serious about him- he doesn’t really seem like the kind of guy to be into a friends-with-benefits situation.”

“It’s not about  _ sex _ ,” Hyunjin said. “Jisung is. . . I don’t know. He and I are close, but it’s not like that. I’m not just trying to sleep with him.”

“So you like him?” Seungmin asked. “I mean, come on Hyunjin. You guys are together more than you and I are, and I  _ live _ with you. I see the way you look at him, don’t you want to give it a shot?”

“No,” Hyunjin said quickly. “I mean, yeah. No. Maybe. I don’t  _ know _ . But I probably shouldn’t go there. Falling in love with a friend doesn’t always work out, and I’m not willing to risk our friendship on a possibility. I’m fine with us just being friends, seriously.”

Seungmin looked as unconvinced as Hyunjin felt.

“Why don’t you try and see where he’s at,” Seungmin suggested. “You might be surprised. I see the way he looks at you, too. He’s more reserved, sure, but there’s definitely something there.”

“I just wish he was more open with me, you know?” Hyunjin admitted. “Sometimes I feel like we really could be something, then other times someone will say something and he just shuts down. I don’t know why I can’t reach him.”

“Give him time,” Seungmin said. “I have the feeling that when he’s ready, he’ll open up.” 

He reached forward, giving Hyunjin’s shoulder a squeeze. 

“I have a feeling that he knows,” he said. “If anyone’s going to be worth it, it’s you.” 

✩ ✩ ✩

As the days toward his summer finals crept closer, Hyunjin couldn’t get into the headspace to work on the final touches of his painting. Jisung was in the studio with him like he was every Sunday, currently leaned over his lyric book and softly scratching out words he didn’t feel a connection to anymore, adding new ones in their place. Hyunjin felt the itch of frustration seeping into his veins. He set his brush down and Jisung looked up, noticing that Hyunjin wasn’t getting work done. While Jisung may have asked about it before, he had learned over time that Hyunjin just needed a distraction for a bit to jump start his creative process again. 

Usually, Jisung would ask random questions- “Do you think rabbits dream?”, or “What’s the first memory that you have of your life?”, or “If you could only eat one type of bread for the rest of your life, what kind would you pick? Remember, you’d  _ have _ to make sandwiches with it!” 

Today, though, he looked more thoughtful. Hyunjin waited patiently for his question, a brief reprieve from the frustration of artistic creation. A few more moments passed before Jisung looked up, locking eyes. 

“Have you ever been in love?” Jisung asked. 

Hyunjin almost cracked a joke, but there was a sense of seriousness to the boy’s tone that stopped him. He thought for a moment. 

“I don’t think so,” he admitted. “I’ve dated, sure, but nothing super long term. When I got my first boyfriend in high school I definitely  _ thought _ I was in love. But looking back, it was just me being a teenager.” he laughed. Everything had seemed so intense at sixteen. 

Jisung nodded, but didn’t look fully satisfied with the answer, so Hyunjin continued. 

“I’ve definitely been heavily in  _ like _ before, if that’s a thing.” Hyunjin said. “There was this girl that I dated when I was a sophomore in college and I think we were heading toward love, but she ended up transferring to a different college and we just couldn’t handle long distance. The rest of college I just kind of dated casually. So, long story short, no. I have loved people, but I haven’t been  _ in _ love.” 

Jisung nodded, but remained quiet. Hyunjin’s curiosity, damn the thing, got the better of him. He wanted to know him.

“Have you?” he asked.

“Yes.” Jisung answered without missing a beat, though his hand stilled.

“How many times?” Hyunjin prodded.

“Well,” Jisung sighed, his pen still touching the page. “Just once.”

“How did it end?” he asked. 

Suddenly, for just a moment, Jisung looked empty. Not just sad, but an absolute shell of a man. A flash of panic settled into Hyunjin’s chest, and he worried for a second that maybe he had gone too far, that it wasn’t his place, that it was one push too far. He was trying to formulate a proper apology for invading Jisung’s privacy  _ again _ when the blonde sighed and closed his book. 

“It’s kind of a long story,” he said simply.

“I’ve got time,” Hyunjin tentatively reached out his hand. “No pressure, though.”

Jisung looked conflicted, his eyebrows scrunched together and his hands turning a ring on his pinky continuously. After a few more moments of silence, he looked up, eyes locking with Hyunjin’s with an intensity he wasn’t used to.

“He didn’t love me as much as I loved him.” He said simply. “And love shouldn’t hurt.”

Hyunjin nodded, waiting for Jisung to continue. After a few beats of silence, Jisung took Hyunjin’s outstretched hand. He gave it one squeeze, then bent down to pull something from his bag. After rummaging around for a minute, he pulled out his laptop, a large portable speaker, and a small USB drive. Setting everything up on the desk, Hyunjin couldn’t help but notice how quickly Jisung was bouncing his leg, nervous energy breaking through his attempt at nonchalance.

“This was the last song I made for him,” Jisung said as he plugged the USB into his laptop. “It’s called s _ orry for writing all the songs about you _ .” He hit play. 

A soft piano melody started floating in the empty studio. Hyunjin was struck by the deep sadness in the chords. It was only by the time the chorus came in that he realized there wasn’t any rapping- it was just a soft ballad, written from the heart. Words washed over him, pulling him to a place of sadness that he had never himself experienced. 

_ Was  _ this _ what love was like?  _ He wondered to himself. He suddenly felt cold, anxious at the idea of sharing himself with someone else, at the sheer amount of vulnerability involved. He hated the idea of letting himself get to a place like that- letting someone else break you down completely. What had Jisung been through, really? Who was the person this song was about?

At the end of the song, Hyunjin leaned forward to hit the spacebar to turn it off, but then he remembered something Jisung had mentioned. Could this be that song Jisung had told him about, all those months ago? Looking at Jisung, the smaller boy nodded once. Hyunjin put his hand down but didn’t press the button, leaving the song playing out its silence. After a few moments, a gentle beat began, a series of short guitar strings and longer chords. 

“What does it mean?” he asked. “If you’re okay with me knowing.”

“You can know,” Jisung said softly. “I just don’t want to say it out loud, not anymore.” 

The blonde leaned over his bag, grabbing a pen and ripping off a small sheet of paper. He wrote swiftly, the order of dots and dashes obviously still memorized, before handing the paper to Hyunjin. It was written in dark red ink.

-.-- --- ..- / -- .- -.. . / -- . / .... .- - . / -- -.-- ... . .-.. ..-.

“It was a long time ago,” Jisung said. “I like to think I’m not that person anymore.”

Hyunjin nodded, holding the paper in his lap. Jisung was trusting him with this, and he could tell it was a heavy weight that he was bearing. He pulled out his phone, looking over to see if Jisung was still okay with this. When he nodded, Hyunjin typed in “morse code translator” into his search browser, and picked the first page that popped up. 

Typing in each dot and dash, he wondered what he would find. Jisung had said it wasn’t a love declaration, but it had to be, right? Something for a lover would be soft, sweet. He wondered if it was something sexual, if that was why he was so embarrassed. He hesitated for a moment, but then the need to know took back over and Hyunjin hit the enter key. The dots and dashes transformed in front of his eyes, forming the words. 

_ You made me hate myself _

“Oh.” he whispered. 

“Yeah.” Jisung said. 

Hyunjin wasn’t sure what to say. He looked at the boy in front of him; over the year they had known each other, he had always thought of Jisung as strong. He was a spitfire in every sense of the word, the first to speak up if he thought something was unfair or if somebody needed help. He insisted on carrying the heaviest box when Minho had moved into a new building, ignoring the way his knees were buckling. He would yell back at anyone who yelled out a catcall at his friends in the streets, sometimes drunkenly screaming expletives until the offenders ran off. He also had a strong sense of pride, clearly believing in his work and wanting praise for it. It was hard for Hyunjin to reconcile the two images of Jisung- one the loud, proud music star and the other a shy, exhausted boy who had to piece himself back together. He didn’t understand how he could be both, but he very clearly was. 

“Is he why you had to take that semester off school?” Hyunjin asked. Jisung nodded, mind a million miles away.

“Will you tell me about him?” Hyunjin asked softly. 

Jisung winced, but didn’t immediately shoot him down as he had expected. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll tell you about Seojun.”


	6. fragile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to anyone who has experienced an unhealthy relationship. I put a lot of myself into this piece so I’m sorry it’s so long, but it was super cathartic to write. Please know that even though I’m just some random writer on the internet, I’m rooting for you and your happiness. Links to resources will be in the endnotes if anyone would like them!
> 
> Songs for this chapter are: Acid Rain by Thompson, July by Noah Cyrus, Wrong Direction by Hailee Steinfeld, Graveyard by Halsey, and Fragile by Cooper & Gatlin

Jisung woke up to his alarm blasting in his ear, and he almost slammed snooze before remembering that it was the first day of classes and he really couldn’t afford to skip. With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself out from under his comforter. Felix was still asleep on the other side of the room with his mouth wide open, soft snores punctuating the rise and fall of his chest. 

Jisung was heavily regretting signing up for a 9am class- sure, he would have his evenings free, but _at what cost_. It was too late to regret his life choices, so he stumbled into the shower to get ready for his first class of his sophomore year. He had just declared his major- music composition- and his parents were, well, pissed. He knew he would have to get perfect grades to placate their anger at his choice of major, so he wasn’t taking any chances. 

He got dressed in a rush, pulling on some jeans and a striped shirt. His dark hair was stuck to his forehead, still wet, and threw on a baseball cap to save time. Even though it was early, he was admittedly excited for this class. It was a creative writing workshop, with an emphasis on _music_ writing. Chan and Changbin had both taken it and said it was the best class they had taken in terms of learning how to write, so Jisung was set on taking it, too. Although he was the maknae of their little producing group, he didn’t ever want to be what held 3racha back.

The course was usually reserved for upperclassmen, but Jisung had bugged (or _begged_ , depending on who you asked) his advisor so much that she let him register early. He was willing to work, and work _hard_ , to improve his artistry. He would prove himself to everyone this year, he was sure of it.

He slid into the classroom, buzzing with excitement. He took a seat in the third row- engaged, but not overeager. He pulled his laptop from his bag, ready for the first lesson. Other students filed in as the clock ticked closer to 9, and he wondered if he would have the seats next to him all to himself until a tall boy came into the room and sat right on his left.

“Hey,” the guy said, flashing him a smile. Jisung smiled back shyly, a little embarrassed at the attention. The stranger was, to be frank, gorgeous. With high cheekbones and strong eyebrows, the boy could have easily been a model. He had bright eyes and dark hair, and from underneath a jean jacket, what appeared to be a strong frame. Jisung was so thrown into gay panic that didn’t even notice when his professor began calling roll. Mindlessly, he heard names of his classmates called out. 

“Choi Seojun?” the professor said. The handsome stranger raised his hand, nodding. “Here.”

Jisung wondered if it was possible to fall in love in five minutes. It had to be, right? That’s what all those songs were about, seeing someone from across the room and immediately knowing that they’re the one. Was this his version of that? Was this the guy, was he-

“Han Jisung?” the professor called out. Judging from her tone, it was not the first time she had asked for him. 

“Um,” Jisung sprung up in his seat, embarrassed that he had been staring at his classmate so intently. “Present!” 

Somehow Jisung was able to refocus on the class itself, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was heavily project-based. Not that he was bad at exams, but he always prefered showcasing his work upfront. The initial lecture passed by in a flash, and before he knew it, Seojun was packing up his bag next to him. As he desperately tried to think of something to say, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up. 

“Jisung, right?” God, his voice was deep. 

“Yeah,” he said, stupidly. “Seojun?”

Seojun smiled, and it lit his whole face up. Jisung almost passed out.

“Yeah, that’s me,” His hair was parted to the side, and this close Jisung could see dark brown highlights. “Nice to meet you. I haven’t seen you in any of the writing classes before, are you new?”

“No, just young,” Jisung laughed. “I’m a sophomore.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Seojun said. “I’m a junior, so you can call me hyung.”

Jisung shook his hand and found his handshake to be firm, strong. 

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’d want to partner up for the project?” Seojun asked. Jisung must have looked confused, because he continued, “There’s always a semester-long project in this class. You basically write a few songs, but you’re allowed to do it in pairs and I noticed you seemed really interested, so I thought it might be fun to work together.”

Jisung thanked whatever gods there may be for his stupid, dumb luck. 

“Yeah,” he said, beaming. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Give me your phone,” Seojun said. Jisung handed it over, feeling like his soul was floating over his body as he watched this beautiful man type in his number. “Just text me when you figure out what your schedule looks like, and we can figure out a time that we can both meet up each week to work.”

“Yeah,” he said. _So eloquent, Jisung_ , he thought. 

“See you next week, Jisung.” Seojun said with another million watt smile. 

“See you, Seojun-hyung.”

✩ ✩ ✩

The first time they hung out, Jisung was a lot less starstruck. He was just a guy, and Jisung had dated enough mediocre college boys to know that it would take more than a pretty face to really make a place in his life. Chan and Changbin admitted that they had never heard of him, but Felix had done some digging and found out that Seojun was a literature major. Although a bit bookish, it seemed that everyone liked him enough, if not very well.

Jisung was pleasantly surprised that Seojun was pretty comfortable with producing, for someone who wasn’t majoring in music. While Jisung had always thrived with lyrics, making the beats always took a bit more struggle for him. At six feet tall, Seojun looked a little cramped sitting behind Jisung’s desk to use his makeshift ‘studio’ every week, but the two of them seemed to compliment each other creatively and Jisung found himself laughing through their sessions. 

“I just love how much power words have, you know?” Seojun had said one night. Jisung was leaning against the wall, scratching out reject lines in his lyric book. Seojun looked over his own book with an indecipherable look in his eyes, but still hadn’t shared his own lyrics with Jisung. Jisung figured he was just shy, and he didn’t want to push him until he was ready. After all, they were making pretty good work on their assignments with just Jisung’s lyrics so far. 

“Yeah, that’s why I love writing, too.” Jisung said. “Words could build people up or tear them down, definitely. They have this ability to just touch the heart- I hope my lyrics can help people one day.”

“You’re a sensitive one, aren’t you, Jisung?” the older boy had asked. 

Jisung blushed, but tried to maintain his bravado. He tucked his pencil behind his ear and struck a cocky pose. 

“Only for those that can appreciate my depth.”

Seojun had laughed at that, a deep chuckle in his chest. When he smiled, he would tilt his head to the left a little bit and look away- Jisung couldn’t help but be endeared. That was the first time he wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Over the semester, Jisung would meet up with Seojun on Thursdays and 3racha on the weekends. His friends were obviously dying to meet his crush, but when he brought the subject up, Seojun insisted that he just wanted to spend time with Jisung. 

“I’m just shy, you know?” he had said. “I really appreciate you not pushing me to meet up with other people.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jisung had said. He suddenly felt a little guilty for asking. Before he could worry about it too much, Seojun had taken his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You’ve always been so respectful.” he said. “You’re special, Jisung. I feel like we really get each other.”

Jisung beamed.

He wasn’t sure when he had fallen in love with him, but it had happened. By the end of November, Jisung and Seojun were practically inseparable. He knew his favorite ice cream flavor, the name of his childhood cat, how he took his tea. He would skip class to meet him on Tuesday afternoons for lunch, ignoring the way his grade in that class slipped a bit. Seojun would leave him little gifts outside his dorm room, a candy bar or a small plushie waiting for him on his doorstep. Jisung felt so lucky to have someone who cared about him so much. While his crush on the older was painfully obvious, Seojun never said or did anything to make him feel embarrassed. Jisung told himself that once the project was over, he would confess. 

And he did.

The Saturday after their final exam, Jisung asked Seojun to meet him on the roof of the music building. It was a well-known secret that the roof had been done up by some of the students, chairs and blankets and some lights strung up. Wrapped up in blankets, Jisung played a song he had written for him. 

“I have no idea how I got lucky enough to have you,” Seojun had said when the song ended. “I don’t ever want to share you with the world. You’re too precious. I promise I’ll always keep you safe.”

Jisung believed him. Their first kiss was soft, slow, everything Jisung had dreamed of over their months together. The first time he said _I love you_ felt like flying.

He wrote two whole songs that night.

Other than the intense privacy of their relationship, the first six months felt perfect. Jisung wondered if it was _legal_ to be this happy. Although Seojun still didn’t want to hang out with Jisung’s friends, he made up for it by taking him on extravagant dates and showering him with sweet words. His work was thriving- even Chan and Changbin admitted that his work was getting better day by day, if a little lovestruck. 

He would spend the night at Seojun’s apartment, then show up to the university’s studio with a brand new song, buzzing with excitement at his new work. The spring semester flew by in a blur of dates at the riverside and evenings under the twinkle lights on the roof of the music building. Minho was a little annoyed how Jisung started missing the weekly dinners with his friends, but Seojun really wanted to have their date nights on Wednesdays and Jisung didn’t want to bother him, knowing how his friends were still a sore subject. When he and his friends all said goodbye to each other at the beginning of summer break, they promised to stay in touch. For the most part, they did. 

Except for Jisung. 

It didn’t happen overnight, but rather a slow slide down, day-by-day. At first, it was just missing a FaceTime or two. Then, his texts became more and more scarce. Minho threatened to send out a search party, but Jisung was still active on social media so they knew he was okay, at least. Slowly, Jisung’s instagram became almost solely taken over by new photos- Seojun gripping him by the waist, a large smile on his face. Jisung was smiling, too, but not as widely. Getting him to answer a call was like pulling teeth, and his friends were confused at the sudden cold shoulder. By the time the break ended and their junior year was beginning, Felix felt like he hadn’t really _talked_ with Jisung in months. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever, Sungie,” Felix had said the day they moved into their apartment. “Let’s hang out tonight.”

Jisung had looked tired, but agreed. That night, they had crammed together on the couch in their living room with the laptop cranked up to an ungodly volume. Jisung kept his eyes on the screen, but he was looking at his phone every few minutes. The room was warm, but Jisung was in a turtleneck sweater and sweatpants, gripping a blanket in his lap. With an anime playing on the screen, Felix tried to broach the subject. 

“Ji,” Felix said. “How was your summer?”

“It was fine,” he said. Felix waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“Last time we talked,” he said gently. “You said you were going on vacation with Seojun to the beach. How was it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jisung smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It was a lot of fun,” he said, words not matching his expression. “Seojun planned out the whole week, we did a ton of stuff. It was just the two of us.”

“Chan said you hadn’t been writing as much music,” Felix pressed on. “Changbin showed me some of the new 3racha songs, but you weren’t on the last two. Why is that?”

“Just been busy,” Jisung said, looking down at his phone again. “I’ve been writing, but Seojun read over them and said they needed work, so he’s been editing them for me.”

“Wait, you’re letting him edit your work?” Felix asked. It wasn’t like Jisung to give up his creative freedom so easily.

“Nah, it’s a collaboration,” Jisung insisted. “I just want to make him happy. He knows better than I do, anyway.”

Felix wanted to keep prying, wanted to ask where Jisung’s bright fire of pride had gone, but his roommate clammed up for the rest of the night. As soon as the episode finished, he jumped up and went to his room. He couldn’t be sure, but Felix thought he heard him arguing with someone on the phone that night. 

Over the next few weeks, Felix decided to keep an eye on his roommate. He started to notice things, things that didn’t quite make sense. Jisung was skipping classes, and when Felix saw the laptop that Jisung had left open on his desk, he realized that he was failing a class. One day he came home to find that Jisung’s favorite figurine had been smashed to pieces, sharp edges scattered across his bedroom floor. When he asked him about it, he said it wasn’t a big deal, that he must have just knocked it over by accident. Felix didn’t believe him. 

“There’s something going on,” he had said to Changbin. He had been reporting his findings to his boyfriend, and to Chan, but none of them really knew what to do. “I mean, he’s barely eating. Haven’t you noticed how skinny he is?”

“Yeah,” Chan said, frowning. “Yesterday, I invited him over to play with Cub, but he said Seojun didn’t like when he came home covered in fur, so he couldn’t go. I’ve literally never seen him turn down an opportunity to play with the puppy.”

“I saw Seojun come to the apartment just as I was leaving today,” Felix said. “I said hi to him, and he didn’t even say anything back. Just gave me a little nod. Jisung hasn’t answered me since he got there- he never does, when Seojun is around. The guy is completely isolating Ji.”

“How can we help?” Changbin asked, eyebrows furrowed. “I _want_ to help, but he won’t even admit that something's wrong. I tried to bring it up the other day and he completely shut me down. Told me that Seojun loved him and to stop meddling in his relationship.”

“I mean, just because we don’t like his boyfriend, doesn’t mean we can make him break up with the guy.” Chan said.

“It’s not just that, though,” Felix insisted. “There’s something else going on.”

“I don’t disagree,” Chan sighed. “But until we have more concrete proof, I don’t think Jisung would listen to us.”

✩ ✩ ✩

Jisung felt a little bit like he was suffocating. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but his life had quickly spiraled out of control. Is this what love felt like? He didn’t remember his parents telling him that love was so fucking exhausting. The cycle of fighting and making up and falling back in love and then fighting again, it felt endless. Any time he felt like letting go, though, Seojun would look at him with tears in his eyes and it would break his heart and he knew he couldn’t give up on someone that he loved. So he stuck it out, every time. 

That afternoon, he looked over to his boyfriend, long legs perched on his bed with Jisung’s lyric book in his hands. He was curled under the new blanket he had bought as an apology for smashing Jisung’s stuff during their last fight. Jisung waited for his feedback patiently. 

“This one isn’t that shitty, baby,” he said. “I think I can actually salvage it.”

“Thanks, Jun.” Jisung said, pulling on a smile. Over the summer, the supportive comments had somehow twisted into attacks on his work. He wasn’t sure when the passive aggressive tone had slipped into his boyfriend’s daily vernacular, but it had. He told him that his work was getting worse and worse, and that the only way to fix it was to let Seojun work on it. He didn’t want to disappoint him, and he knew that Seojun wouldn’t lie to him- if he said his work sucked, it probably did, right? He trusted him, so he gave him what he wanted. 

“Is this the one you want to submit for the internship application?” he asked. Jisung nodded. The application was due the next month, and he had been working tirelessly on his portfolio whenever he had a spare minute. Which was becoming more and more rare, lately. 

“I think that might be a mistake,” Seojun said. His handsome face was twisted up in disappointment. “Come on, Jisung, you don’t think you’ll actually get in with this? Without my help?”

“Well, you can play around with it, if you want,” he said quickly. Seojun looked pleased. 

“Of course, babe,” he said, sweetly. “I love you, you know I’ll do anything to help you.”

The kindness instantly melted any of the iciness Jisung was feeling, and although he felt a little stupid letting Seojun get away with talking down to him again, he was so thankful to not be fighting that he couldn’t help the rush of warmth he felt as his boyfriend pulled him into his embrace. Seojun pressed a kiss against his forehead, then pulled back to look him in the eyes. 

“We’re so lucky to have each other,” Seojun said. Jisung smiled. 

“I know,” he said. 

Things aren’t always bad, he reminded himself. Sometimes, we have to make sacrifices for the people we love. He wouldn’t be weak. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Around their one year anniversary is when Jisung stopped hanging out with his friends completely. The most he saw of Felix was in the morning when he rushed in to change clothes before class. Most of his nights, Seojun insisted that he stay at his place. He’d wanted to get his friends some gifts for the upcoming holidays, but Seojun took his credit card one night for ‘safe keeping’, and had yet to give it back. One night, he got text alerts from his bank that someone was making excessive purchases. He recognized the shop name as a bar downtown, so he called and cancelled the card, too anxious to try and get it back. His fears were confirmed when Seojun showed up at his door a few hours later, drunk and yelling. 

Jisung woke up the day after extremely sore. His arm was aching from how Seojun had twisted it when he admitted to cancelling his card, and there was a bruise slowly blooming on his ribs. When he finally got out of bed, he found Seojun awake and sitting at his desk, dark eyes on him. 

“I pulled your application.” Seojun said. Jisung looked for any inkling of a joke behind his words, but found none. He felt the blood drain from his face. 

“You-” he shook his head, trying to wake himself up from this nightmare. “You what?”

“Your portfolio was garbage,” he said sweetly, taking Jisung’s face in his hands. “I love you, babe, but it was absolute shit. I logged into your account while you were sleeping and pulled the application. You _never_ would have gotten into the program, and I couldn’t let you embarrass yourself.” 

Jisung felt like he was underwater. Nothing was making sense- maybe Seojun was still drunk? That had to be it. He sat up and put his glasses on, squinting to see if his boyfriend’s eyes were still glassy. They weren’t.

“Jisung,” he said. “I love you too much to let you embarrass yourself. You know that. You would have been heartbroken by another rejection, and they absolutely would have rejected it. I had to protect you.”

_Protect you_ . The words buzzed in his head. _Protect me_ . He thought. _Protect me from you_. Jisung thought he might be sick. 

“I know we fought last night, but it’s just because I love you so much,” he whispered. “I hate when you make me act like that, but I’m willing to forgive you and move forward. If anything, babe, you should be thanking me. ”

Jisung felt like he had gotten the wind knocked out of him. His application had never gone though… the internship was a lost opportunity? God, the internship. He tried to stop the tears from forming, but they were slipping down his cheeks before he could catch his breath. When had he lost control of his life? He had had it all figured out a year ago. He could feel all of his dreams slowly slipping out of his fingers. 

“ _Shh_ ,” Seojun said, climbing into bed with him. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you.”

Jisung felt himself hyperventilating. This was supposed to be his shot at the internship. Chan and Changbin had said it was _his_ year, they had _said_ it. And Seojun had thrown that all away. He had given him everything- his heart, his body, his music. . . did he even have anything left?

“If it makes you feel better, baby, not all of it went to waste,” Seojun whispered as he kissed Jisung’s tears. “I played around with your lyrics, turned it into something I could use in my senior seminar paper. You weren't a total failure babe, I was able to fix some of it.”

Jisung could feel fire in his veins. Not only had his boyfriend stopped him from his real shot at success, he had _stolen his work_ for his own classes. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that what he had with Seojun wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t know how to stop this train barreling into the darkness. This was rock bottom, he was sure of it. 

✩ ✩ ✩

It was the second week of December, and Felix was heartbroken that Jisung wouldn’t be joining their friends for their annual get together before winter break, which always consisted of a huge dinner and sleeping over at Chan's apartment. It was something that all of them looked forward to each year, and it would be the first time one of them missed it. Chan suggested that maybe Jisung just needed some time, but Minho was insistent that they needed to break down his door and demand he explain what was going on. 

That night, Minho left the party early to try to get to the bottom of what was going on. He’d had a sick feeling in his stomach throughout the evening, unable to enjoy himself when Jisung wasn’t there. He’d had enough of the silent treatment from someone who was supposed to be his best friend, so he waited outside Jisung and Felix’s door for three hours until Jisung finally appeared. When he did, it was under his boyfriend’s arm. Minho could smell alcohol practically wafting off of Seojun’s clothes- it was obvious that the guy was wasted. 

“Minho,” Seojun slurred with clear distaste. His arm tightened around the small boy next to him. “What d’you need?”

“I need to talk with Jisung,” he said, crossing his arms. “You can leave now.”

“I don’t think so,” Seojun said. He unlocked the apartment- _when had he gotten a key?_ Minho wondered- and pushed Jisung inside before he could speak to his friend. His friend looked impossibly small, curling into himself. 

“Dude, _don’t_ push him,” Minho snapped. “And you don’t get to decide for him who he does and doesn’t speak to.” He shoved his foot in the doorway so that Seojun couldn’t close it. Jisung made a noise that sounded almost like a whimper. 

“You’re starting to piss me off, Minho,” Seojun said. “I’d suggest you get out of here.”

Minho looked over his shoulder to see Jisung standing behind him, arms gripped hard around himself. Even from feet away, Minho could see that there were tears in his eyes. _Nobody_ made his friend cry like that. 

“Fuck off, Seojun,” he said. “This isn’t your apartment, you don’t get to say who stays and goes. I don’t know how you got the idea that your opinion is worth two shits, but I’m happy to set the record straight. Frankly, I’m getting a little sick of your fucking attitude and if I have to kick your ass to get that point across, I would be happy-”

“ _Minho_ ,” Jisung’s voice was small, but sharp. “You can’t speak to him like that. You need to leave.”

“What?” Minho was shocked. Seojun looked sickeningly smug, but Minho could tell that there was no real bite underneath Jisung’s words. If anything, he looked a little scared as he glanced back and forth between his friend and his boyfriend. Minho wanted to push his way inside, grab Jisung’s shoulders and ask him _what was going on_ , but before he could think of something to say, Seojun had pushed him out of the doorway. He heard the lock click shut and, before he could even start to walk away, Minho heard something slam into the door. 

Chan woke up to eight text messages, in quick succession.

_Minho [2:48am]: Channie hyung, call me._   
  


_Minho [2:48am]: Chan hyung._

_Minho [2:48am]: We’ve got a problem._

_Minho [2:49am]: It’s Jisung._

_Minho [2:49am]: Well, it’s Seojun._

_Minho [2:49am]: There’s something going on with him._

_Minho [2:50am]: Jisung just kicked me out of his apartment, but he looked fucking terrified._

_Minho [2:50am]: I think there’s something wrong._

Chan woke up out of his stupor, shaking off the sleep. Cub was snoring from his spot on the couch, and Chan had to reach over the dog to grab his phone from the charger. As he read over the texts, he felt dread wash over him. 

For weeks, he had been worried about Jisung. His friend was supposed to be polishing off his application for the internship program, but he had stopped coming to the 3racha sessions with him and Changbin, and then stopped responding to Chan’s texts altogether. He didn’t want to be a nagging older brother to him, but he was worried and at this point, he wasn’t even sure what he had turned in. It was worrying him, but he hadn’t felt like it was his place to meddle in his life. 

These texts, though, changed things. He would protect his family. 

✩ ✩ ✩

That Tuesday, Jisung came home to his apartment without Seojun. Felix had sprung up off the couch and called their friends to come over; he knew it might be their only shot to get Jisung alone for awhile. When Jisung came out of the bathroom, he found five friends and one 200lb dog in his living room with six boxes of takeout and matching expressions of concern.

“Hey, guys,” he said softly. “What’s going on?”

“That’s _it_?” Minho snapped. “Months of radio silence and that’s all you can say?” His words were hard but his eyes were so sad, Jisung could barely look at him. Chan patted the spot next to him on the couch, and Jisung hesitantly walked over. Cub curled under his feet, whining. Jisung couldn’t summon the energy to even pat his head. 

“Sungie,” Chan said. “We’re worried about you, bud.”

Jisung shrugged, trying to look unconcerned. Felix leaned down, whispering, “You know we love you, right? You can tell us what’s going on, no matter what we’ll be here for you.”

Jisung opened his mouth to deny it. He was going to say they were being overprotective, they were imagining things, they had it all wrong. They were just jealous- Seojun had told him that over and over. That’s what he was _going_ to say, but then Changbin had raised his hand to place it on his shoulder in a gesture of support and he instinctively flinched away. 

The entire room went silent. Changbin looked shocked, but Felix quickly burst into tears. Chan started rubbing Felix’s back, shushing him, while Minho stood up and started pacing, completely irate. 

“Jesus, Jisung,” he said, voice thick with tears. “Is he fucking _hitting_ you? I’ll _kill_ him.”

Minho sat down in one of the chairs, head in his hands as he muttered softly “I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him.”

Jisung wanted to tell him he had it all wrong. He wanted to tell them that he was okay, that he had it under control, but when he made eye contact with his tearful roommate, he broke down, too. 

Before he knew it, his friends had surrounded him in a circle, protecting him from his thoughts and wiping his tears and _loving_ him. Minho was holding his hand and Felix was crying with him and Chan was nodding in encouragement and he and Changbin were rubbing his back, and Jisung felt like he could breathe a little bit. They let him cry for as long as he needed, they didn’t push, they were just there with him. Even Cub gave him a lick or two on the cheek. 

He never had to actually say what was happening or spell out the vitriol boyfriend had thrown at him for months- his friends understood what his silence implied, and by the end of the night, they had developed a plan. They promised to help him, however they could, and Jisung finally realized that what he had with Seojun wasn't love. 

This, right here with his friends, _this_ was what love was. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Getting Jisung out of the relationship was hard, but they did it. Once Chan heard about what had happened with Jisung’s application, he had quietly reported it to the standards board at the college. Jisung had been scared about angering Seojun, but Felix had changed the locks to their apartment and Minho started sleeping over in Jisung’s bed with him. They would watch dramas and read comics, and sometimes Jisung would even get a little bit of sleep. The literature department had a zero tolerance policy when it came to plagiarism, and since Jisung had earlier copies of the work Seojun had taken from him, they failed the liar on the spot. Jisung slowly started piecing his life back together. 

The day Seojun was found guilty of plagiarism, snow started falling in thick sheets across campus. Jisung was coming back from the corner store, (“ _If you don’t start eating more, I’m going to force feed you,_ ” Changbin had threatened), when he found Seojun sitting outside his complex. His heartbeat sped up, but he stood his ground. He had a support system, he reminded himself. He just needed to end it all, for good. 

“You fucking idiot,” Seojun hissed at him. “I can’t believe you fucking turned me in.”

Jisung stepped back instinctively, out of arm’s reach. Seojun rolled his eyes. 

“You’re not worth the energy it would even take to fucking hit you,” he said. “Look at yourself, Jisung. You’re fucking pathetic. You’ve always been useless, and you’ll always _be_ useless. You will never make a damn dent in this world without me. I made you into someone important, someone loved, and you just threw it away.”

Jisung wanted to respond, but he was crying again and he didn’t want Seojun to hear how his voice was shaking. He reminded himself that his brothers loved him, and that Seojun was lying, but he was still yelling at him. 

“Your parents will _never_ be proud of you, Jisung,” he spat. “They’ll always be disappionted they had a fucking artist as a son, they know as well as I do that you’ll never be worth anything.”

He took a threatening step forward, pointing a finger at Jisung’s chest.

“I will be here for the rest of the semester,” he hissed. “And until I have to leave, I will make your life a living hell, I promise you that. I’ll be waiting for you, out here, every day if that’s what it takes to make you realize what a fucking mistake you made.”

Jisung pushed past him, running up the stairs to his apartment. Luckily, the older boy didn’t follow, just sat back down on the bench in front of the complex. From his window, he felt like Seojun was watching him. He pulled his blinds shut, collapsing on the ground.

That night, Felix had come home to Jisung sitting in the dark, his clothes soaked through from the snow. He was shaking, fingers tinged blue from the cold. Felix didn’t know what to do, so he called Chan and Changbin. When they arrived, they found the boys on the couch, Felix rubbing Jisung’s back. When Changbin came over to them, he pulled his boyfriend up and whispered to him that he should go ahead and get ready for bed, they could take it from there.

Jisung heard Felix walk toward his room, and he felt better knowing that his most sensitive friend wouldn’t have to see him like that anymore. Chan and Changbin, however, didn’t look like they would be going anywhere anytime soon.

He looked up at his friends, tears in his eyes. 

“I don’t know how to do it, you guys,” he said. “He’s right, I’m not making anything important. I’m so fucking sick and tired of wasting away my days contributing _nothing_ to the world. At least, not in the way that I know I could be contributing.”

He slid off the couch, hitting the ground roughly. He hugged his arms around his body, feeling completely out of control. “I lost my shot at the internship,” he whispered. “And now Seojun is going to make every day intolerable until he finally graduates and leaves for good. I’m sick of being a burden to all of you.”

Before he even realized it, Chan and Changbin had joined him on the ground. They pulled him into a tight embrace, and he was surprised to find that his cheeks were wet. 

“You’re not a burden, Jisung.” Chan said with certainty. 

“Never.” Changbin said. 

“That’s what he told me.” Jisung whispered. It was the first time he had said it out loud, and even though his friends had assumed that the situation was bad, hearing it coming from his own mouth was painful. He felt Changbin’s hand on his back still, but Chan was looking at him with such steady support that he didn’t backtrack. 

“What else did he say to you, Jisung?” Chan asked. 

“Useless.” Jisung spat. “Fucking useless. _Get over yourself, Jisung_. Waste of space.”

“It’s okay, Ji, you don’t have to-”

“Worthless,” he couldn’t stop the words if he tried, so used to hearing them every day. “A disappointment of a son. Nobody likes you, or would care if you disappeared. You _should_ disappear.”

He collapsed into tears the moment he got the last word out. His friends comforted him quietly, reassuring him with gentle words and soft touches. Chan had been the first one to suggest taking a semester off. Jisung had scoffed, but after awhile it became clear that he wouldn’t get any work done, not in the state he was in. 

“You said his lease is up in the summer,” Changbin had said. “Then, he’s gone. He’s got no money to stick around here, and you won’t have to keep looking over your shoulder.”

Jisung had looked at his friends with empty eyes, but knew they were right. He needed some time to piece himself back together. 

It wasn’t easy, and it hadn’t been an overnight task. His parents had been ashamed of him when he admitted he was taking time off, and eventually they told him they didn’t want to support him at all anymore. “ _Look where music has led you_ ,” they had said. “ _You can take responsibility for your actions now._ ”

Jisung signed a lease for an apartment with Felix in a new building, on the opposite side of town as the other one had been. He spent his days working at Keopi Kong, saving what he could, and paying off his expenses on his own for the first time. The first few months were hard, always looking over his shoulder, but when June arrived he accepted that his ex had moved on, presumably to his next victim. Seojun’s instagram was full of photos with new boys, and Jisung found himself offering silent prayers that they would be treated better than he had.

He enrolled in summer classes, then, catching up on the credits that he had missed. The first time he stepped back inside a studio he had cried for ten minutes before putting the headphones on. There was a certain sense of coming home, then, as his fingers settled over the keys. His friendships slowly shifted back to normal, if a little less carefree, and he was unspeakably grateful for the people that he had in his life. He changed his number and dyed his hair a bright blonde- Seojun had always said he could never pull off any color other than black. He started watching stupid YouTube videos again, not feeling guilty for wasting time doing something just for fun. He felt like he could rebuild his life. 

The night before fall semester began, Changbin and Chan had taken him downtown. They accompanied their friend to a tattoo parlour, District 9, that Jisung had mentioned a few times over the years. He had been a fan of their work for some time, but never had the money to put toward a piece. Now, however, Minho had offered to pay for a two hour session with an artist there, and Jisung found himself feeling surprisingly welcome in the warm studio.

“I feel like I could’ve worked here,” Chan had said. “Maybe in another life I do.”

Changbin nodded, looking over the sketches. The shop had a certain sense of home, exposed brick and green plants encouraging visitors to relax. Jisung met with his artist, who showed him a rough sketch of the piece he had asked for. Smiling, he gave the woman a nod. It was exactly what he wanted. 

As Jisung laid on the table, he felt himself slowly easing into a new normal. The artist offered him a plush pillow to rest on as he exposed his skin to the warm air, ready to be made into art. Jisung closed his eyes, focusing on the soft rock playing in the shop as the needle scraped across his ribs. He zeroed in on the rhythmic buzzing of the tattoo gun, the needle going in and out of his skin with intense pressure. It hurt, of course, but there was a sense of purpose to the pain this time. He took one break, when Felix came by with some bubble tea to replenish his sugar. 

Leaning over to look at his ribcage in the mirror, his friends all fawned over his new artwork. Where he had once had a bruise from his ex-boyfriend's anger, he now had an anchor etched into his skin. As the artist wrapped up his burning side with a protective Saniderm patch, Chan gave him a warm smile. 

“It looks so good, Ji.” he said, squeezing his shoulder. Jisung felt like it was the birth of a new chapter in his life. The tattoo was a reminder that he had friends to anchor him, to hold him steady in the rocky storm that had been his last year. With the black and grey streaks on his ribs, he was reclaiming his body, making it brand new. 

A body that Seojun had never touched. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Jisung rolled his shirt back down, Hyunjin’s eyes lingering on the tattoo as the fabric fell over it. It was a hell of a story, and he felt heartbroken that Jisung had been through so much- no wonder he was so skittish about opening up. 

“I think I write about self-love and self-expression so much in my music because I don’t really believe in romantic love anymore, you know?” Jisung admitted. “After what happened, I just thought, you know, it’s not worth it. I don’t like feeling fragile, and that’s what he turned me into. A fragile, broken little thing with no backbone. I can’t ever let myself get to that place again.”

“Being fragile isn’t always a bad thing,” Hyunjin whispered. “I think there’s a certain strength to vulnerability.”

“Maybe,” Jisung shrugged. “But I’m not sure people think ‘strong’ when they look at me, you know? I kind of feel like I give off the vibe that I’m damaged goods.”

“When I look at you,” Hyunjin said. “I do see someone strong. You’re smart, and funny, and dedicated to music in a way I’ve never seen.”

His hand reached up to Jisung’s face, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. Hyunjin wanted to hunt this Seojun guy down, but Jisung made it clear that he just wanted to move forward with his life. He let his fingertips rest on his cheekbone, light as a feather.

“You’re strong, but you’re still delicate,” he said. “The way you hold a pencil, the smile you give your friends when you think they’re not looking, the lyrics you write at night.”

Jisung stilled, but leaned into his hand. He felt frozen in place. 

“You’re like a matryoshka, like your song,” Hyunjin continued. “You’ve got this bright confidence painted over layers of doubt, but you keep moving forward even though it’s scary. That’s _real_ strength.”

Hyunjin took a deep breath. Jisung wasn’t sure he could breathe at all. 

“You’re still fragile, Ji,” he said. “But, it’s kind of beautiful.”

Jisung thought time might have stopped as Hyunjin leaned in. For a moment, just a split second, he let himself really wish. Wish that he’d be allowed to have this, this kind of happiness. Hyunjin was unique and bright in ways that Jisung had forgotten people could be. How long had he been hiding away from the world? When he leans into the taller boy, Jisung can feel his heartbeat pounding against his chest, fluttering like a bird in a cage. He wonders how long it has felt trapped in there, what it would be like to break free. He closed his eyes, and then-

_Slam!_

The two boys jumped back from each other to find Seungmin standing in the doorway.

“Sorry, uh, I didn’t realize the door was so light,” he said awkwardly. “I brought you guys some food, figured you worked through dinner.”

Hyunjin sighed, but stood up to walk over to his roommate. Jisung felt frozen to his spot, a little bit in shock at what had almost happened. The panic started, then, the familiar feeling of anxiety washing over his body as he looked away from Hyunjin. He was doing it again, falling too fast, falling into a dark hole where he couldn’t see his way forward clearly. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts down yet again. He couldn’t survive another Seojun, and even though he was sure that Hyunjin was different, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. 

Jisung hopped up from his seat, plucking his bag from the floor as he walked over to Seungmin. He smiled at his friend, taking one of the boxes of food from his hands with a sigh. 

“Thanks, seriously,” he said. “I should probably be heading home now, though, so I’ll take it to go if that’s okay. I’ll see you guys tomorrow for coffee.”

Jisung had rushed out of the studio before Hyunjin could even say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like more information about getting out of an unhealthy relationship, there is more information here:  
> \- https://www.thehotline.org/  
> \- loveisrespect: Call 1-866-331-9474  
> \- chat at loveisrespect.org  
> \- text “loveis” to 22522, any time, 24/7/365.
> 
> You are not alone <3


	7. honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I was so, so inspired by some songs this time around! (what’s new, lol). The songs for this chapter are "3AM" by Finding Hope, "Honey" by Kehlani, and in the painting scene, I played BAILEN’s ‘Something Tells Me’ on repeat, and let me tell you it was PERFECT for setting the scene I wanted. Check it out during that part! Finally, during the final scene, "There's No Way" by Lauv.

Other than having a deeper understanding of why Jisung was the way that he was, not much changed after their conversation. Hyunjin desperately wanted to talk to him about what had almost happened between them, but any time he even remotely neared the topic, Jisung would change the conversation to something about Hyunjin’s art, or his new adventure at the coffee shop.

One perk of being a manager was that Jisung now got a say in what types of events would be held at Keopi Kong. They occasionally got requests for community events- a yoga night here and there, sometimes a class on brewing espresso properly at home. He had dreamed of hosting an open mic night for a year or two, but the previous managers had insisted it would be too much work, having to vet the performers and deal with cover charges, so they never approved it. As the new manager, however, Jisung decided that it was time to give it a shot. 

His friends went into a flurry in their excitement to support him. On opening night, almost all of his friends had come by and had gathered at one of the bigger tables near the back. Hyunjin and Seungmin had wanted to come, but Hyunjin had a night class and Seungmin was studying for a practical exam the next day- Minho only pouted about the absence of his boyfriend a little bit before jumping into the night’s festivities, insisting that they all get different flavored lattes to find out which one was superior. 

Jisung watched with pride as the first performer took the small stage, introducing herself and pulling her guitar closer with a smile. With the first few strums of the guitar, Jisung knew that these nights would be a success. The event ran smoothly, bringing in new business in the form of new faces coming to support their friends performing. With every new purchase at the counter, Jisung felt pride swelling in his chest that it had all come together. He knew that these would be new regulars, and the owner of Keopi Kong was going to be pleased.

Felix hopped up from their table and walked toward the front, sitting at one of the barstools as Jisung brought him his order. Felix picked up his lavender latte and looked over at his roommate, heart swelling at how excited he seemed. It had been a long time since he had seen Jisung so optimistic. 

“This is actually working out,” Jisung said, a little surprised. “I can’t believe it.”

“Of course it is,” Felix said. “You’re a superstar.”

“Wise as always, my brilliant twin,” Jisung laughed. He crossed his arms, pleased. “I’m going to start bugging Jeongin to perform one of these nights. We’d get regulars that would come just to stare at him.”

“You’re not wrong,” Felix noted. “And you know I love some wholesome, self-esteem-boosting peer pressure.”

Jisung laughed, propping up on his elbows on the counter. Felix sipped his drink thoughtfully, then leaned forward with a small smile. Jisung looked happy, but Felix had a suspicion that it wasn’t just the cafe’s success that was making him smile so widely.

“How are things going with Hyunjin?” Felix asked gently. “You know Minho is just _dying_ for double dates.”

“Then you and Changbin can join him.” Jisung said. Felix decided to drop it, assuming that that was all he was going to get out of his roommate. He was surprised, then, when Jisung sighed and turned to him, sporting a small smile. 

“Things are actually really good, though, I think?” he said quietly. “I told him about Seojun.”

Felix initially frowned at the mention of Jisung’s ex, but once he realized what Jisung had said, shock settled in and his eyes grew wide. 

“Woah, really?” he asked. Jisung nodded. “That’s really awesome, Ji.” He reached over, clapping his friend on the back. 

“I’m seriously so proud of you for opening up, I know it’s not something you take lightly.”

“I almost kissed him.” Jisung blurted out.

“You al-,” Felix choked on his drink. He hacked a few times before croaking out, “Sorry, you _what_?”

Jisung kept his eyes on the performer, but the blush on his face spoke volumes. Felix coughed a few more times, slowly recovering from nearly choking on his coffee. Jisung smacked him on the back, laughing at how Felix was sputtering. Once he had finally cleared his throat, Felix looked at his friend with a beaming smile and a bright red face.

“Oh my _god_ ,” he whispered. “Sungie!”

“Would it be dumb to say that I’m kind of hopeful?” he asked. 

“Of course not Ji,” Felix said. He felt the hope, too, bubbling up in his chest. “Not dumb at all.”

✩ ✩ ✩

Hyunjin insisted on making up for his absence at the first open mic night, and sent about fifteen texts bugging Jisung about when they could celebrate all the hard work he had put into running the event. He didn’t want to make a big deal about it, and insisted that it didn’t warrant a celebration, but Hyunjin had sent him at least five pouting selcas in response. The sad faces finally wore him down, and he agreed to a more low key celebration, inviting Hyunjin over for a movie night. 

Jisung spent the afternoon desperately trying to make his place look less of a mess, Changbin and Felix watching him with grins as he ran from room to room. Arms full of blankets and pillows, he was laser-focused as he cleaned their small two-bedroom. Changbin even tried doing a handstand in the middle of the living room to see if Jisung would notice in the midst of his speed-cleaning. He did not.

“Changbin-hyung,” he called from the kitchen. “Do you think I should order tteokbokki or jajangmyeon? Hyunjin said he wanted ‘Korean comfort food’ but I don’t know if he prefers more spicy or-” 

“Jisung,” Changbin laughed as he sat back down on the couch. “You’re so whipped for this guy it’s ridiculous”. 

“Hyung,” Jisung sighed.

“When was the last time you bought _me_ yummy comfort food?” Changbin complained, hands on his hips. “Or just comfort food? Or literally just _food_?”

“You have Felix for that.” Jisung said. 

“Hey!” Felix objected. 

“Exactly,” Changbin said. “He buys me food because he’s my _boyfriend_.”

Jisung ignored him. He banished Felix from the apartment that evening, insisting that he and Changbin should have a date night if they were such perfect boyfriends. Felix had wiggled his eyebrows as he left, but Changbin just gave Jisung a pointed look as he shut the door. 

When Hyunjin arrived that night, he was in his comfiest pair of sweatpants and a huge grey hoodie, a bag of sweets in hand. He whined at Jisung until he too changed into a pair of oversized pajamas, insisting that “ _comfort is key to a movie night_ !”. He and Jisung took full advantage of having the living room to themselves, rearranging all of the cushions with fervor. Jisung had moved the string lights from his bedroom into the living room so it wasn’t too dark (not that he would ever admit to being afraid of the dark, of course, because he _wasn’t_ ), and Hyunjin threw a few blankets into a pile to create the perfect spot for sitting. After creating a blanket fort with questionable structural integrity, they finally put on the movie. 

Jisung held a bag of popcorn close to his chest as he walked over to the fort they had created. Hyunjin was settled under a fuzzy white blanket, his back leaning against the sofa. He looked up at Jisung, patting the spot next to him. Suddenly, Jisung was overthinking- how close was he supposed to sit to him? Would their shoulders touch? Would it be weird to share a blanket?

Before he could fully spiral into panic, Hyunjin laughed and reached out to grab his hand, pulling him down unceremoniously into the blanket pile. Hyunjin scooted over to him, sharing his blanket without a second thought. Jisung found himself relaxing almost immediately. 

Hyunjin giggled as Jisung tossed bits of popcorn into the air, trying to catch them in his mouth. It quickly became a game, and other than a brief pause after almost choking on a kernel, Jisung crushed an entire bag by himself. While they watched “ _Along With the Gods_ ”, Jisung and Hyunjin munched on the takeout the younger had ordered, and Jisung was surprised to find himself wiping away a tear during the movie. His heart tugged for the mother in the story, and as he tried to hide his crying from Hyunjin he realized that the other boy was weeping openly. He felt a pull in his chest at how open Hyunjin was with his emotions- somehow, it made him want to be open, too. 

When the movie finally ended, Hyunjin blew his nose loudly. Jisung secretly thought he was kind of cute, blotchy face and all. 

“I haven’t cried like that since I watched _Hotel de Luna,_ ” he sniffled. He whipped his head toward Jisung. “Wait, have you watched _Hotel de Luna_?” 

When Jisung shook his head, Hyunjin looked absolutely affronted. 

“We must fix that, Ji,” he said, hand clutching his chest in shock. “We _must._ Hand me your laptop.”

Hyunjin signed into his account swiftly, oblivious to how Jisung watched him with a fond smile. Hyunjin shoved the HDMI cord into the TV with expert speed and once he set up the first episode, he leaned back into the couch again. “Come here,” he said. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m right next to you, though?” he said, confused. 

“Don’t be afraid to snuggle in, Ji,” Hyunjin said with a wink. “Felix told me you’re a cuddler, and this drama is a doozy. You’re going to want the emotional support.”

Jisung blushed, but obliged. As he settled into Hyunjin’s side, he pulled the blanket up under his chin. He could feel himself starting to spiral into overthinking again and had trouble focusing on the screen. At some point, Hyunjin’s reached over and rested his hand on his thigh, a gentle pressure anchoring him in the moment. He fought the smile on his face, but rested his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder nonetheless. He was surprisingly warm, and he found himself relaxing as Hyunjin’s fingers gently carded through his hair. After that, it was a lot easier to follow the story. 

When Felix came home in the early morning hours, he found the two boys asleep in a pile under a half-collapsed blanket fort, episode six of Hotel de Luna episode playing in the background. In his sleep, Jisung had reached his hand out, and Hyunjin’s hand was in a similar state, mere inches keeping their fingertips from touching. Felix closed the laptop gently, smiling to himself when he saw that leftovers of both tteokbokki _and_ jajangmyeon were on the table. 

✩ ✩ ✩

As fall semester crept close, Hyunjin spent his evenings working on potential designs in Keopi Kong. Jisung moved the open mic nights to Thursdays (not so Hyunjin could come, _completely_ unrelated), and they were such a success that they became a weekly event, rather than the previously planned once-a-month schedule. Hyunjin loved working on pieces as college students performed songs and poems, Jisung beaming from behind the counter. When the air conditioning in his studio had broken one afternoon, he found it to be the perfect excuse to indulge in Keopi Kong’s menu, grateful to have another place to work on initial sketches before he had to go to the sweltering studio. There was a different energy to the cafe with the addition of live music, and he was starting to really enjoy working there again. 

Since it was going to be his last fall semester in the MFA program, Hyunjin decided to sign up for a class on live painting. It was a form of art that he hadn’t tried out yet, and he figured that it was a good chance to branch out before he had to dedicate his spring semester to his final showcase. While it was exciting at first- painting people as they sat there definitely offered new life to a piece- it eventually started being a bit taxing. Sometimes he would look at the class model and want to throw his acrylics at them, yelling “ _why are you so hard to paint!_ ”, but somehow he contained himself. Hyunjin was admittedly more comfortable with inanimate objects, and he was worried that there was something hollow about his paintings of human beings. He didn’t know the people he was sketching, so how could he be expected to really capture their essence? His other pieces were still going well, luckily, but as the canvas for his live art final project remained blank day after day, it was starting to weigh on him. 

One overcast weekend, Jisung could detect the stress in Hyunjin’s text messages. He decided to drop by the studio with some snacks to boost his mood, because if he was going to be stressed, he should at least be stressed on a full stomach. He pushed past the door and found the boy laying on the floor of the studio, his lo-fi hip hop playlist blaring in the background. The studio was hot, humid, and Hyunjin looked especially pitiful stripped down to shorts and a sleeveless undershirt. He was glaring holes into the ceiling with sweat on his brow and a dry brush in his hand. 

“Hyunjin,” Jisung called. “You good?” 

Hyunjin didn’t even bother getting up from his position, just groaned in response. He flung the brush across the room, mumbling curses under his breath. Jisung plopped down on the ground next to him, joining him in having a staring contest with the ceiling. 

“I take it the project is going well,” Jisung laughed. “I brought some brain food.”

“Bibimbap?” Hyunjin asked in full pout.

“With an extra egg.” Jisung said.

“You’re an _angel_ ,” Hyunjin sighed, sitting up slowly. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Sure you do,” Jisung laughed, handing Hyunjin the bag of food. “Why the sad face?”

“My model cancelled on me,” he grumbled. “And I really wanted to get the project done, and I’m frustrated about how hard it is, _and_ it’s a sauna in here.”

“I thought your outfit was a little skimpy today,” Jisung laughed, tugging on Hyunjin’s tank. “Wasn’t Seungmin going to be your model? I thought that’s what he told me the other day.”

“He was, but he _ditched_ me,” Hyunjin pouted. “All because Minho-hyung wanted to introduce him to the cats.”

“He’s meeting the cats?” Jisung asked, perking up. “That’s a big step! Doongie will be a sweetheart, Soonie too, but Dori is the real test.”

“Noted.” Hyunjin laughed. “Seungmin stayed up all night researching cat behavior to try and make a good first impression.”

“I’m sure Dori will take that into consideration when she passes her final judgement,” Jisung said. “So, what are you doing now?”

“Moping, mostly.” Hyunjin sighed, digging into his food. “I can’t move forward working on my sculpture assignment right now because it’s still in the kiln, so I blocked off all afternoon for this _stupid_ live painting assingment that I can’t even work on anymore.”

He stabbed one of the eggs in his dish aggressively. 

“So I just have to sit here and _imagine_ what my painting could look like,” Hyunjin grumbled through a mouthful of rice. “On the off chance Seungmin even gets back in time for me to work on it tonight. This whole project has just been a nightmare, I just want to get it over with.”

Sensing his frustration, Jisung pulled out his phone. He sent Changbin a quick text, telling him he couldn’t work on the new 3racha track that night- he had a feeling Hyunjin needed him more. Hitting send, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and turned to his friend, who was grumpily munching on his food. 

“You could paint me,” Jisung offered, hoping to sound indifferent. “If you want,”

“ _Seriously_?” Hyunjin’s head shot up, a few grains of rice falling out of his mouth. “You don’t mind?”

“If you finish your food, first,” Jisung laughed. “I just have to sit there, right?”

“Yeah, but it might take a few hours for me to paint it,” Hyunjin said. He was shoveling the last of his meal into his cheeks. “I don’t want to keep you from your plans.”

“I worked the morning shift,” Jisung shrugged. “I’m free all day.”

Hyunjin praised whatever gods may be at the opportunity to actually complete his work. He hopped up from the floor, new energy buzzing in his blood as he tried to decide how he would set up the space. He dragged a dark bean bag chair from the corner of the room to a more central spot, the window open behind them for a bit of a breeze. Hyunjin paused, looking at the long sleeve shirt Jisung was sporting. 

“One minor concern,” Hyunjin said. “You might sweat to death in that.”

“Oh,” Jisung complained. “You think I’ll go into heat stroke if I have to sit still for a few hours? I forgot it’s so swampy in here.”

Hyunjin stood up straight, looking through his paints rather than at Jisung. He picked a few, gathering them in his arms. “Just take off your shirt,” He said, trying desperately to sound nonchalant. “It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing for the piece, as long as you sit still.” 

Jisung didn’t say anything, but looked at Hyunjin with curiosity. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get me naked, Jinnie?” he teased. Hyunjin rolled his eyes. 

“Believe me, _Sungie_ ,” Hyunjin said. “If that’s what I was trying to do, using this god-forsaken project would not be my first choice for a seduction method.”

“So you’ve thought about it before?” Jisung asked. Hyunjin blatently ignored him, directing him over to the bean bag chair. He dragged his easel over, the canvas still as blank as the day he had set it up. He set his art supplies down, meticulous. 

“Get comfortable, Ji,” he said, plucking one of his favorite brushes from the cup. “Once you’re still, I’m going to start.

Jisung looked a little self-conscious, his bravado finally wearing off, but took a deep breath and placed his hands on the seam of his shirt. He pulled it over his head in one fell swoop and sat down in the bean bag, leaning back. He had the urge to place his arms across his body, hiding the softer slopes of his tummy, but he figured it wouldn’t be worth the inevitable arm cramp. He just hoped Hyunjin wouldn’t find him too awkward to look at. He looked up to find Hyunjin staring, a strange, pained look on his face. 

Hyunjin found himself at a total loss for words. He knew he was staring, that he needed to say something so it didn’t seem weird, but his brain was malfunctioning and he couldn’t think properly so he blurted out the first thing he could think of, which ended up being-“You having a tattoo will give me more details to add to the sketch!” 

“Oh,” Jisung raised his eyebrow, but nodded. “That’s good I guess.”

Hyunjin nodded, a little embarrassed. What he wanted to say was more along the lines of _please don’t be embarrassed to show yourself_ or _you’re gorgeous_ or _I can’t believe I have an excuse to stare at you all afternoon_ , but he held those inside.

While he had originally intended on doing the piece in black and white, looking at Jisung watching him with trusting eyes, his hands naturally gravitated toward colors. He started mixing the paints, the sheer intensity of his focus pushing his tongue into the side of his cheek as he tried to get the perfect shade. He heard Jisung laughing at the face he was making, but he ignored him. He started on the outlines first. 

Just as his brush hit the canvas, Jisung suddenly asked, “Is this position okay?” 

Hyunjin looked up from his paints, taking in the way Jisung was sitting. He looked a little stiff, to be honest, but Hyunjin wasn’t sure that telling him that would relax him any. Instead, Hyunjin cocked his head to the side, trying to envision the final painting. He leaned forward, hand reaching out. “Is it okay if I touch you?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Jisung blushed. “Yeah, of course.”

Hyunjin took Jisung’s hand gently, pulling his arm across his chest so that his fingers rested on his sternum. He tilted Jisung’s head back so that it was leaning against the bean bag, which Hyunjin knew would be a more comfortable position to sit in for an extended period of time. He brushed a few pieces of his hair back from Jisung’s forehead, trying to ignore how his eyes followed his every movement. He leaned back, taking it in. 

“There,” he said. “You look perfect.”

Hyunjin set to work. Jisung settled into the bean bag much more comfortably as the music played softly in the background, and he observed Hyunjin’s brushstrokes with a small smile. There was something about watching somebody who was so focused on the act of creation that made his chest feel warm. A fierce fondness washed over him, then, and he felt any lingering feelings of self-consciousness leave his body. This certainly wasn’t how he had anticipated spending his afternoon, but he was sure that there were worse ways to pass the time than having a cute boy paint you. 

The next hour passed in a blur of brushstrokes and quiet breathing. Halfway through the painting, the clouds finally parted and the sun poured in through the window. It hit Jisung right across the torso, painting his body a soft gold. Hyunjin’s paintbrush stilled, giving him a moment to just look at him and take him in. Jisung’s eyes were half closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun, and Hyunjin couldn’t peel his eyes away from him if he tried. Sitting there, sunshine draped across his chest, Jisung’s skin was honey.

Hyunjin knew he shouldn’t be looking at him like that- after all, Jisung had been vulnerable with him, so kind and open, and they were just _friends_. But there in the studio, taking in the curve of his chest and the dip of his hips, Hyunjin felt his breath catch at his overwhelming desire to touch him. In contrast, Jisung’s exhales were soft, slow. He clearly had no idea what he was doing to Hyunjin. 

He was so beautiful it hurt to not just _scream_ it at him. 

Hyunjin tried to focus on the painting composition itself. As another Jisung came to life on the canvas, he was dumbfounded that he ever found the assignment difficult. It was such a far cry from the haphazard strokes he had done in class, a stranger’s face skewed awkwardly on the canvas. The art was practically creating itself, he thought, how had he been so frustrated by it before? Deep down he knew that it probably had to do with the subject, but he pushed those thoughts away as he added highlights to the miniature Jisung’s torso. 

He focused on the details of Jisung’s face as he painted, moving on from the chest that was distracting him so much. He painted his round cheeks, a soft pink, and dark eyes with small creases from all the teasing smiles he handed out regularly. He painted his hair, the individual strands with the beginning of dark roots peeking out. He spent about fifteen minutes alone on one of his hands, the way his fingertips cast shadows as they gently rested against his chest. As Hyunjin painted Jisung’s lips, he felt a hot fire burning in him at the thought that anyone had ever hurt the boy with a heart-shaped smile. How could someone look at him, so gentle and soft, and put their hands on him? He was certain that they’d had no soul. Nobody should deface artwork. 

Jisung sighed, so comfortable with the warm sunshine and the gentle music and the soft strokes of Hyunjin’s paint brush against canvas, he was almost falling asleep. Hyunjin painted Jisung’s tattoo last, a stark contrast of dark lines against his honey skin. He let his mind wander as he painted, wondering silly little things about Jisung- what side of the bed he slept on, his favorite movie as a kid, the scent of his body wash. He wondered if he was the kind of person who liked to interlock fingers when walking through a crowd, if he talked in his sleep, if he remembered his dreams when he woke up in the morning. What it would be like to kiss him. 

As he finished up the final brushstrokes, Jisung opened his eyes again. Hyunjin turned the canvas around, presenting the final product to him with his heart hammering in his chest. He held his breath, waiting for Jisung’s reaction. 

“Oh, wow,” he said. He looked up at Hyunjin from behind long lashes. “It’s gorgeous.” 

Hyunjin had to focus to keep his breathing steady. “Yeah,” he finally said. “You are.” 

The smile on Jisung’s face was so fond that Hyunjin had to look away. 

✩ ✩ ✩

In September, Jisung and Felix decided to throw a joint party to celebrate their 23rd birthdays. Jisung insisted that it was just going to be a small get together, but their friends knew that Felix would never let the night pass without copious amounts of alcohol and dancing. They decided to brainstorm together, Changbin there as a mediator. 

“I’m just saying, turning the apartment into a ball pit could be cool,” Felix said. Jisung nodded fervently. 

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Changbin sighed. “I’m just not sure your landlord would be cool with ten thousand plastic balls in the apartment. Remember the bubble wrap incident?”

“That’s fair,” Felix shrugged. 

After throwing out ideas about hiring ironic clowns or creating an alcoholic version of bobbing for apples, Changbin was able to direct the conversation towards a more realistic plan. They all finally agreed on a themed party. Felix insisted that they go with a galaxy theme, to match the mural Hyunjin had painted on their wall all those months ago. “It’ll be less decorating for us!” he had insisted. 

Jisung pretended to have his heart set on a dinosaur theme, but ultimately he agreed with his roommate. They decided it would be a lot easier to just buy a bunch of food for the event rather than try to make anything themselves; they didn’t want to poison the guests, after all, and Felix couldn’t even make a smoothie that didn’t taste like paint. Jisung took control of the music for the evening, creating what he deemed “the perfect party playlist”, featuring a few space-related songs to fit the theme. 

He and Felix bought about a hundred glow-in-the-dark stars to stick on their living room ceiling, with a few stuck directly on their front door for good measure (“ _to guide the guests_!” Felix had insisted). Chan picked up some huge silver balloons in the shape of moons and stars on his way home from work, and they all arranged them next to the mural for the perfect photo op. Jeongin offered to bring by a small cake from the local bakery, layers of strawberry cake with black frosting and purple sprinkles in the shape of stars. With the addition of some dark navy streamers hanging up, they were all set. 

The night of the party, Hyunjin arrived with two small gifts in tow: one, in a neon green gift bag, and the other wrapped in a small burlap sack. As he knocked on the door, he was surprised to find that he was a little nervous. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but he was anxious to see Jisung’s reaction to his gift. He knew Felix would love his- a small sculpture of the video game character he had designed for his next game. Jisung, however, might be underwhelmed. He hoped not. 

When the door opened, it was to a rosy-cheeked Jisung. He was in a simple white top and grey pants, hopping from foot to foot with a jean jacket across his shoulders. Hyunjin wanted to squeal at his fluffy hair, but before he could lean in to hug him, Felix had hip checked him out of the way. 

“Hug me first!” Felix yelled, already tipsy. “It’s almost my birthday, too!”

Hyunjin laughed, pulling his friend into a hug. Jisung was rolling his eyes, but his smile betrayed how funny he found the whole thing. He tried to pluck the gifts from Hyunjin’s hand while his arms were full of Felix, but his roommate smacked his hand away, insisting that he couldn’t open gifts early. 

“But today _is_ my birthday!” he whined. Felix stuck out his tongue. 

“Yeah, but we want to open them together, and I can’t open them before my birthday begins at midnight!”

Hyunjin wasn’t sure how sound that logic was, but Felix looked so happy that he didn’t want to spoil it. The freckled boy gave his friends one last pinch in the side before running to the other side of the apartment, Changbin waiting with a drink in his hand and a look on his face that was equal parts fond and exasperated- Felix gave him a quick peck and it was quickly all fond. 

Hyunjin turned back to Jisung. He was holding a hard cider in one hand, the other playing with his necklace. Hyunjin reached out his hand, gift forward. “Happy birthday, Ji.” he said. “I know Felix just said not to, but I want you to open your gift.” 

He handed him one of the gifts, setting the other on the table for Felix to unwrap later on in the night. Jisung took it, eyes bright. 

“Aw, a sack!” Jisung teased. “For me? You shouldn’t have!” 

Hyunjin snorted. “All for you, birthday boy.”

Jisung laughed, setting down his drink and pulling the bow undone. He unwrapped the string, opening the sack and peeking inside. When he realized what it was, his face split into a huge grin. 

“Wait,” he said. “Is this-”

“Your very own reusable thermos, completely customized,” Hyunjin said proudly. “It’s handmade, so it’s totally unique and there’s no other one like it.”

Jisung pulled it out of the bag with a laugh, beaming. He turned the cup over in his hands, taking in the dark red color gradient and the specks of white in the gloss. It was beautiful, and very clearly Hyunjin’s work. Hyunjin tapped the side of the mug. “I know you said you got sick of seeing the same cups every day, so I booked an extra spot in the kiln at the studio and made you this over a few late nights.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Jisung said, dazed. “We were by the river, right? That conversation was so long ago.” 

“I tried to go for colors you liked,” Hyunjin said. “But if you look at the bottom-”

Jisung flipped it upside down, finding the bottom to be half dark blue, and half purple- _his_ purple, thistle. Both of their colors, a yin and yang on the bottom of his thermos. He pulled Hyunjin into another hug, this time with one arm wrapped around his neck and the other holding onto his new favorite cup. 

“Thank you so much,” he mumbled into his shoulder. “It’s perfect.”

When Hyunjin pulled back, his necklace had tangled up with Jisung’s. The blonde giggled, fumbling with the silver chains as he tried to untangle the metal. 

“What if I said you’re cute,” Hyunjin said, before he could stop himself. Jisung’s hands stilled. He looked up at Hyunjin, mischievous. 

“I’d say you were just trying to be nice to me on my birthday,” he said. “But that I appreciate it.”

✩ ✩ ✩

As the party fell into full swing, Hyunjin found himself stuffed into the couch with his friends playing an extremely confusing drinking game on the coffee table. Daehwi hadn’t been able to come, working on a project for his job, but he had sent a special delivery to the apartment- a huge handle of whiskey. Jisung had gone around the room, insisting that everyone take birthday shots with him. Once everyone complied, Felix had then made his own rounds, insisting that everyone take another shot for _his_ birthday. By the time they cut into the cake, everyone was in a pretty good mood. 

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Hyunjin stood up from his spot on the couch and looked around the room. He found Jisung standing near the kitchen, talking with one of his friends from college. When it looked like his conversation was dying down, Hyunjin made his way over to him, reaching out for his hand. Jisung took it without a second thought. 

“Hey,” he said as his friend left to get another drink. “How’s it going?”

“All good so far,” Hyunjin said. “Have you enjoyed your birthday?”

Jisung nodded, looking around the room. 

“Yeah, it’s been really great,” he said with a smile. “But in about three minutes it’ll be Felix’s birthday, so we’ll have to go smother him when midnight hits. He jumped on my chest first thing this morning and I fully intend on repaying the favor.”

They sipped on their drinks as they talked- another cider for Jisung, a beer for Hyunjin- and giggled at their much more inebriated friends. As the clock struck 12, everyone started singing happy birthday to Felix. Jisung leaned forward to start walking over to his roommate, presumably to throw himself on top of the boy, but Hyunjin took his hand and pulled him back to the wall.

“What’s up?” Jisung asked. 

“It’s not your birthday, anymore.” he said. 

“It’s not…” Jisung trailed off, confused.

“It’s not your birthday anymore.” Hyunjin repeated, a little unsteady. “And I still want to say that I think you’re cute.”

Jisung couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. “Oh really?” he asked, a little breathless. 

“Really,” Hyunjin said. “So can I say the rest of what I wanted to, now?” Jisung nodded. Hyunjin leaned Jisung against the mural he had painted, all those months ago. Something about the sound of their friends celebrating and the smell of frosting in the air settled his heart, and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. 

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are,” Hyunjin said. “Like, no fucking clue.”

Jisung raised his eyebrow. This was clearly not what he was expecting Hyunjin to say, but the taller boy continued before Jisung could try to make a joke. 

“Sometimes I look at you and I feel like someone has knocked all the wind out of me and I can’t breathe, but then you laugh at something stupid and the whole room lights up. You have overcome some of the shittiest situations, and you’re stronger than literally anyone I know. You’re _tough_ and _smart_ and _funny_ and I can’t believe how talented you are. I’m not saying all this as some sort of ego boost, ‘cuz God knows your ego doesn’t need any help.”

Jisung snorted, but he was beaming. 

“Anyway,” Hyunjin said. “I just wanted you to know that I feel so stupidly lucky to have you in my life, today and every day. Not because it’s your birthday and I’m trying to be nice, but just because you deserve to know how special you are.”

He gave Jisung’s waist a squeeze.

“That’s, uh,” he said. “That’s all I wanted to say.” He stepped back, putting a little space between them. Still leaned against the mural, Jisung looked like he was floating in the Milky Way. He looked at Hyunjin dead on, the twinkle lights reflecting in his eyes as he reached out and pulled the taller boy back into him, chest to chest. 

“No,” Jisung said softly. He looked up, eyes dancing. “That’s not all, is it?”

Hyunjin felt his heart stutter. 

“You’re right,” he smiled. “It’s not.”

He leaned down then, and Jisung leaned in. He tastes apples and whiskey, feels warm lips smiling into his own. He wasn’t sure how exactly it happened, but one moment he was at a party with blaring music and purple lights, and the next he’s floating in space, the most gorgeous guy he’s ever known pressing a soft kiss onto his mouth.


	8. weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Songs for this chapter include “I swear I’ll never leave again” by Keshi, “Change” and “Time” by NF, “Weak” by Wet, and “If You Want Love” by NF. NF’s songs were a huge inspiration for me when writing about Jisung’s work, so those are what I was imagining as his application portfolio. I’d like to imagine his mixtape also included“The Only”, “When I Grow Up”, and “WHY”, but for brevity’s sake I didn’t include those on the official playlist. 
> 
> Only one more chapter (& maybe an epilogue if y’all want one) to go!

They don’t really talk about it, but now when they hang out they’ll sometimes kiss each other goodbye. Never in public and never in front of their friends, but Hyunjin can’t help but giggle at the buzz in his fingers when he gets to stroke the side of Jisung’s cheek. He’s not sure what they “are”, but right now they’re both happy. It’s something Jisung clearly didn’t think he was allowed to have again, and for now the joy of having someone to talk to at the end of the day and pepper kisses across his cheeks was enough. They would talk about it eventually. 

With his final project fast approaching, Hyunjin knew that he needed to do well on his final if he wanted to get accepted to an apprenticeship at the gallery he wanted to work at. His professor mentioned in passing that his name was at the top of the list for the gallery, if his final piece went over well. 

He started spending extra hours in the studio, stressing over what to submit as his final piece. He had a few sculptures that showcased his technique and skill well, but he didn’t know if they were enough. He liked his watercolor work the most, but that never went over that well with his professors or competition judges. As he racked his brain, he picked up a spare canvas and threw some paint on the white slate, painting through his frustration. As he painted, his mind inevitably drifted to Jisung. 

Sometimes, when Jisung plays him a demo, Hyunjin feels a strange pull in his chest. It’s something in the way that Jisung’s ears stick out from his hoodie, a habit he picked up from Minho, and how he bobs his head along with the beat before the first verse hits. One night as he plays him the latest song he included in his application portfolio, it hits him. He’s falling in love with him, and it feels a little bit like getting hit by a truck. 

Without even realizing it, he had started to paint the boy he was falling in love with. He painted his shoulders and spine, against a bright splash of color. When he closed his eyes and imagined the way Jisung’s hands might grip his sheets, the wrinkling of the fabric under him, Hyunjin’s hands added strokes of burgundy to the canvas. His brush dipped into white next, painting soft strokes like the puffs of air that escaped Jisung’s lips when he finally fell into a deep sleep. Hours passed in a dreamy state, and by the time he leaned back from his canvas, he found that it was 3AM. He had completed almost half of a painting, the quality better than anything he had ever made, and the affection he had for the piece made his head spin. 

It wasn’t _supposed_ to be a piece for Jisung, but that is somehow what it spiraled into, and the idea of turning it in as his final showcase piece brought about a pang of anxiety. He knew Jisung would probably not be comfortable with such a deeply personal piece being the highlight of Hyunjin’s work and he didn’t want to upset him by asking. He finished it over the course of a few weeks, but couldn’t bring himself to tell Jisung about it. Eventually, he ended up leaning the piece against a wall in his apartment, covered in paper as he tried to figure out what he could make instead that would be as expressive and impactful. 

One particularly cold October morning, Jisung invited Hyunjin to come to Keopi Kong’s open mic night. Once he had assured him that nobody would be screaming out slam poetry (he’d been burned before), he agreed to stop by after his night class got out. 

He started his day by sitting down to eat breakfast with Seungmin. As he munched on a slice of toast with peanut butter and checked social media, his roommate leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “How’s your project for your final going?” he asked, setting down his mug of coffee. “I saw it sitting in the hallway earlier, does that mean you’re done?” 

Hyunjin winced, knowing that the conversation was about to take a turn. He returned his phone to his back pocket, placing his hands on the table and facing his roommate. Seungmin had been raving about how good the piece was, and he wasn’t going to like what Hyunjin was about to say. He braced himself. 

Seungmin looked confused. “Hyunjin?”

“I’m thinking of redoing it.” he admitted. 

“What?” Seungmin asked, incredulous. “Why? It took you a month to make the one you’ve been working on.”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to,” Hyunjin said. “The first one is too personal.”

“What do you mean?” Seungmin asked. “I thought you said it’s perfect for showcasing your style?”

“It’s of Jisung,” he said, leaning back. “I don’t want to make him uncomfortable by turning in a piece that is so explicit, you know?”

“Why don’t you just show it to him, and ask what he thinks?” Seungmin asked. “There’s no way you’ll be able to make a new piece in time, Jin.”

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin admitted. “But I’m too nervous about asking him to use it- he isn’t ready to, like, be public about us. I don’t know how he would feel about such a personal piece hanging in a gallery.”

“That’s crazy, Hyunjin,” Seungmin said. “You said it was the best piece you've _ever_ made.”

“It is,” Hyunjin said. “But I don’t want to upset Jisung, and-”

“Are you guys together now?” Seungmin snapped.

“What?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Are you together?” Seungmin prodded. “Officially?”

“No,” Hyunjin admitted. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “We haven’t really talked about it, he said he’s not ready to-”

“You do this _all_ the time, Hyunjin,” Seungmin said. “You’re such a sweetheart and you put other people first and I love how big your heart is, but I can’t sit back and watch it with this. You need to put yourself first for once.”

There was a beat of silence, but Hyunjin sighed. 

“I know,” he said softly. 

“You can’t always put other people before yourself,” Seungmin said. “You deserve to be with somebody who supports your dreams as much as you support theirs. He should understand that- he’s going to get his shot, now it’s your turn.”

“But,” Hyunjin said. “I don’t want to have to choose between them.”

“What is most important to you, Hyunjin?” Seungmin asked, gently. “The potential for an apprenticeship at a gallery, something you have wanted your _whole life_ , or a boy that isn’t ready to commit to you?”

Hyunjin sighed. He knew that Seungmin was baiting him, trying to get him to just admit his feelings already. In his gut, he knew that the piece was better than whatever he would end up turning in, because it came from the heart. It was a passion project. He imagined a world where he wasn’t an artist, where he didn’t get his break. He thought about all the people who gave up on their work, miserable, only to take some boring desk job and hate their lives. 

“I don’t know, Minnie,” he said. His head was buzzing. 

Seungmin didn’t look pleased with that answer, and just sat back, waiting for Hyunjin to continue. So he tried to think about a future without Jisung, and it was… bleak. He didn’t know when Jisung had made such a comfortable home in his heart, but he had, and he didn’t want to do it without him. Seungmin just looked at him, waiting. His friend looked stressed, unsure how to best support Hyunjin through the decision. Hyunjin shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, but Seungmin waited for him patiently. 

“I care about him,” he finally said. “And I want both. I want him, and my art, without having to hide either one. I deserve both.”

Seungmin nodded, taking a deep breath. He looked satisfied, like he had gotten the answer he needed. “Then you need to be honest with him, Jinnie,” he said. “I love Jisung, and you guys are really good together. I think it’s a rare thing that you guys can inspire each other so much, so you need to make that clear to him.”

Hyunjin leaned back, a little shocked. He hadn’t realized how fond Seungmin was of Jisung, and it made him feel warm to know that he had his best friend’s support. He was still nervous about talking to Jisung, but he felt a little more confident. 

“How?” he asked. 

“Just tell him you want to submit the piece, and explain to him _why_ you’re doing it,” Seungmin suggested. “That way, he understands it’s because he’s inspired you, not because you’re using him. Tell him how much he means to you- he’s such a good guy, I know he’ll understand.”

“When did you get so wise?” Hyunjin asked. “I know it’s not because of Minho.”

Seungmin snorted, turning his attention back to his food. “What if I said it is?”

“Then I’d say we’re both pretty lucky,” Hyunjin grinned. “And you’re right, I’ll talk to Jisung when I see him tonight.”

✩ ✩ ✩

At half past eight, he arrived at the coffee shop. The front left section had been cleared, all the tables pushed to the side to make room for some lights, speakers, and a microphone stand. Hyunjin was pleasantly surprised to find a young man sitting on the chair, strumming a guitar and singing a soft melody to the patrons who were eating it up. It seemed like the regular college crowd, save for two older men in the back booth, and Hyunjin strained his eyes looking for Jisung. He finally found him, emerging from the back room. He was surprised to find Jisung not in his work uniform, but rather a white hoodie and dark pants, a red headband pushing his hair back from his face. 

Jisung waved him over, smiling shyly at him. When he arrived at his side, Jisung took his hand, interlocking their fingers. Hyunjin noticed with a start that his hand was shaking a bit.

“What’s up, Ji?” he asked.

“I’m performing tonight, so the other manager is working,” Jisung explained. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to come if you were busy.”

“Are you kidding?” Hyunjin said. “I would’ve been here no matter what, you know I love hearing your stuff. What are you performing?”

“Oh, well,” Jisung scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It’s actually a new song.”

“Woah,” Hyunjin said with a smile. “You’re sharing a new song? I’m so proud of you, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Jisung beamed under the praise, and when the crowd started clapping at the end of the boy's set, he headed toward the front. His steps were slow, his boots a heavy sound across the room. When he stepped into the light, he tapped on the mic twice until a bit of feedback echoed in the room. 

“Hey, you guys,” he said. “I’m Han Jisung, and I’m going to be performing an original piece for you tonight.” 

For a moment, Hyunjin couldn’t help but think that Jisung looked incredibly small. Maybe it was the large expanse of the stage, maybe it was the harness of the fluorescent lights, or maybe it was his hoodie, swimming on him two sizes too big. He could tell that the younger boy was nervous, but then he looked up and locked eyes with Hyunjin. He finally let out the breath he had been holding, visibly relaxing a bit.

“I wrote this after I met someone last year that shifted my way of thinking about myself,” he said. “This is a song called _Change_.”

The background vocals eased the song into focus, a beat dropping as Jisung leaned into the mic. The song had an intensity to it that Hyunjin felt was unique to Jisung’s work- it was like he was reading his diary, his thoughts and emotions spilling into the air in front of him. Jisung closed his eyes, gripping the mic with such force that it shook along with his hands. 

_I need change / Yeah it's kinda easy to say right? / But difficult to do when I feel like I hate life_

_And everyone around me kinda thinks I'm a great guy / But I don't ever think it, so I think I'm a fake, lyin'_

_Change- it's something that I know I should do / I'm a little uncomfortable to tell you the truth_

_But to be honest with you lately I got nothin' to lose / See, I've always been full of pain but now I'm makin' some room_

_Lookin' for change_

On stage, everything about him is sharp, intense. From the way his eyes track every movement from across the room to the way he snaps the end of his verse into the microphone. Hyunjin wasn’t sure why he ever considered Jisung to be soft- it probably had something to do with those big round eyes and full cheeks- but images were inherently deceiving. Hyunjin remembered how, when they first met, he had been shocked by the younger boy’s confident introduction- it seemed too strong to be coming from such a gentle face. So maybe on the outside he was sweet and unassuming, but not the inside. Inside, Jisung was all sharp angles, every part of him carved in stone, unforgiving and set in his ways. His confidence on stage came from knowing himself, and Hyunjin had such a deep respect for the strength that he was showing. But even in the words he was spitting, so aggressive and sure, Hyunjin could still catch a glimpse of that softness inside the iron cage of his heart. 

Hyunjin only realized the song was over when he heard the applause from the table next to him. A group of college girls were screaming, one waving her hands wildly as her friends hid behind their hands in embarrassment. He laughed as he scanned the room, happy to see what a strong reception Jisung had gotten. 

Jisung hopped out of the light, shaking his shoulders in relief. When the next act came up, Jisung rushed over to him. “Hey,” he said, a little breathless.

“Ji!” Hyunjin yelled. “It was so _good_.” Jisung wiped at his forehead, beaming at him. Hyunjin pretended to shake his shoulders, fawning over his performance. He leaned forward. 

“Ah, that's good,” he said quietly. “I actually wanted to tell you something- can you keep a secret?”

“Normally, no,” Hyunjin admitted. “But for you, yes.”

Jisung laughed. He leaned into Hyunjin, putting a hand up to his ear. “You see those two guys in the back?” he whispered. 

Hyunjin whipped his head around, Jisung smacking him on the arm. 

“Be more obvious, why don’t you!”

“Sorry,” Hyunjin laughed. “But yeah, I see them. Why?”

“They’re from SilverStone,” Jisung said, eyes bright. “They’re part of the team that decides on the internship program.”

“ _What_?” Hyunjin asked, shocked. “What are they doing here?”

“They contacted me a few weeks ago,” he admitted. “They said they recognized me as a return applicant, and wanted to know why I pulled my application last year. I was embarrassed, but I was actually honest with them about it. They said they appreciated my vulnerability and that they were looking for an intern that could handle the program in one year rather than two, because they would take on some of the writing projects for a duo that is debuting next year.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Hyunjin asked. 

“They said they wanted to see my work in person,” Jisung beamed. “So I invited them tonight and if they liked it, they’re going to give me the internship.”

Hyunjin was shocked, joy crashing into him like a wave. For a rare moment, he was completely speechless. Jisung was tearing up, then, and the blonde threw his head back in laughter. 

“And I think it went _well_!” he yelled. 

Hyunjin pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “I am so proud of you,” he whispered into the nape of his neck. “No matter what they decide, you’re incredible and they’d be lucky to have you.”

Jisung pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Thanks,” he said. “No matter what, I know I’m going to be okay.” He suddenly laughed again, louder. 

“What?” Hyunjin asked. “What’s funny?”

“I just never thought I would say that,” Jisung said. “That things would be okay no matter what. It always felt like so much pressure, but I feel so light now. _God_.”

“What did Chan-hyung and Changbin-hyung say about it?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Ah,” Jisung looked at the ground. “I actually haven’t told them yet.”

“Why?” Hyunjin asked, confused. “Couldn’t they, like, help you with it all? Since they already work there?”

“Maybe,” Jisung said with a shrug. “But I felt like I wanted to do this myself. It’s one of the first times in a long time that I’ve been so completely confident in my work, I just wanted to rely on myself this time. You’re actually the first person I’ve told.” 

Before he could stop himself, Hyunjin asked,“Why?” 

“I don’t know,” Jisung admitted. “I’m scared, of course, but for some reason when I look at you it isn’t as scary anymore.”

Before he can stop himself, Jisung leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Hyunjin’s lips. Hyunjin’s heart swelled in his chest, Jisung’s fringe brushing against his nose as he leaned in. It all feels a little bit like coming home. 

“Thank you for being here,” Jisung said. “Do you want to come back to my apartment with me when the open mic is over? I want to show you the rest of the songs I sent in with my application, if that’s okay.”

Hyunjin couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d love that.”

✩ ✩ ✩

That night Jisung brought Hyunjin home with him. It wasn’t the first time he had been in the apartment, of course, but something about the evening felt different and Hyunjin couldn’t help the nervous energy buzzing in his body. Felix was out for the night, staying over at Changbin’s, so Jisung was happily able to play his songs using the big speakers rather than headphones. 

Jisung sat at his desk, pulling the files from his portfolio up on the screen. Hyunjin made himself comfortable, sitting on a few pillows on the floor next to him as he played the songs on his laptop. Each one had a different color, a certain feeling that showcased Jisung’s talent in lyric-writing. As he played song after song, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly proud of Jisung. It was clear this is what he was made to do. 

The last song started, a mix between ballad and rap, Jisung singing verses about how he always pushed people away but still knew that he desperately needed someone. He was asking for time, to be understood, and to be given space to fall into someone else safely. Hyunjin felt a little choked up recognizing the parallels in the lyrics. 

“For so long I was walking around with this, just, _emptiness_ in my heart,” Jisung said, leaning back in his chair. The song was finishing, the final chords hitting as he continued, “It’s like, you live your life for so long carrying around a cemetery in your chest. This long dead love is haunting you and scaring away anybody else, you know? You just feel like you’re damaged goods.”

He looked up, locking eyes with the taller boy. “Then I met you.”

Hyunjin rose to his knees until he was eye level with Jisung, still sitting in his chair. He cradled the blonde’s face, softly, until Jisung finally closed his eyes. A moment passed, then two. When he opened his eyes again, Hyunjin pulled him in.

“Play me something soft,” he whispered against his lips. Jisung shifted, his fingers pressing into the keys of his laptop until a gentle tune spilled into the room. 

“Thanks.” Hyunjin said. 

“Yeah,” Jisung breathed. “Anything for you.”

The next kiss was slow, almost hesitant in its gentleness. Jisung’s lips were pliant against his own, pressing down with warmth and affection wrapped up in the taste of strawberries. It was soft for a moment until Jisung was struck with a surge of bravery, and leaned forward to deepen the kiss. 

Surprised, but pleased, Hyunjin felt Jisung part his lips, inviting him in. Hyunjin noted that Jisung was remarkably responsive, lips perfectly flush against his own. Although they could hear the music playing quietly in the background, the sound of breathing was louder, and Hyunjin thought that the walls could probably crumble and they wouldn’t even notice.

Jisung carded his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair, a gentle hum in the back of his throat whenever Hyunjin would deepen the kiss. The older boy’s knees were starting to hurt and the angle of his neck was awkward, so he leaned forward and scooped Jisung into his arms. Lifting him out of his chair, he took a few steps before placing him on top of the duvet of Jisung’s bed. 

“Is this oka-” Hyunjin started to ask, but Jisung was already saying “ _yes_ ,” and pulling the older boy down on top of him. Hyunjin accepted the invitation readily, crashing back down into him.

After a few more minutes of getting lost in the taste of Jisung’s lips, Hyunjin leaned back on his heels. The sight of Jisung beneath him, blonde hair against red sheets, was enough to make him breathless. Jisung’s eyes were bright, following Hyunjin’s every movement as his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He was stroking the side of Jisung’s chest slowly, deliberately, but his hands stilled at the hem of his shirt. Before he could even ask, Jisung gave him a small nod and he pulled it over the boy’s head gently. His own shirt soon followed. 

Hyunjin leaned down to press a line of kisses along his chest, his skin soft and warm against his lips. Jisung was so impossibly small beneath him, the sight of his tiny waist encouraging Hyunjin to whisper praises into the younger boy’s skin until the only thing he could think of was the two of them.

“Do you want me to turn the light off?” Jisung asked suddenly. 

Hyunjin paused his ministrations, confused. The only light in the room was barely a glow, coming from Jisung’s small desk lamp, so he wasn’t sure why the light would be bothering him. Just as he was about to get up to go turn it off, Jisung shifted underneath him, embarrassed. “I don’t mind,” he said softly. “I’m used to it.” 

All at once he looked ferocious and fragile, a contradiction that long ago wrapped around his bones and settled into his skin. It finally hit him that Jisung was _self conscious_ , used to being told to hide himself, and it’s all too devastating in how far it is from the truth. In reality, Hyunjin could drink him in for hours. Although he desperately wanted Jisung to see himself the way he did- soft and beautiful and strong- he suspected it would take longer than they had in one night. Instead, he turned away from the lamp, purposefully leaving the light on, and leaned back down to catch his lips.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said. “And I _want_ to see you, if you’ll let me.”

Jisung looked shy but pleased, and nodded. They reconnected.

By the time Hyunjin reached his neck, the blonde’s hands were back in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Hyunjin could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and for a moment he was worried that Jisung could feel it. But when he leaned in he could feel the younger’s heartbeat, too, thumping just as quickly as his own. Something about that steadied him- they were both nervous. Through those nerves, though, he felt incredibly safe. The way that Jisung quietly drew shapes into his back, fingers light and revelling, let him know that he felt safe, too. Hyunjin shivered as his tongue touched skin, tasting sweat on the boy’s collarbone. He bit down. 

The sound that slipped out of Jisung’s lips was honey, high and sweet, and Hyunjin wanted to hear it again. He wanted to hear it forever. Before he could try to once again coax it out, Jisung pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him up and flipping them over so that he was hovering over Hyunjin, lips ghosting over his. He could feel each puff of breath against his face as Jisung placed his arms along either side of Hyunjin’s head, leaning down. 

“Stay the night.” Jisung whispered. His eyes were somehow darker than Hyunjin remembered. “Please.”

Hyunjin grinned, leaning up so that their chests were flush against each other again. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” he said. “Now come here.”

Jisung was back on him in an instant, his low sigh sending vibrations through Hyunjin’s chest. His lips were starting to feel bruised from the force of pressing into the other boy, but he couldn’t stop himself. When he felt hips press down into his own, the pressure made his head spin. He wanted him so badly he felt dizzy.

He’d been with people before, of course, but that night felt more intense than anything he could remember. Something in the way that Jisung cradled his face as he pressed into him, gentle but firm, was a contradiction more delicious than anything he’d experienced before. They took turns worshiping each other, and Hyunjin couldn’t remember another time in his life when he felt so completely adored. When he finally saw stars, he had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from babbling a steady stream of “ _I love you, I love you, I love you_ ”. 

He wasn’t sure how long they lied next to each other, after, but those playful conversations were something that he wanted to tuck into his memory forever. They stayed like that, totally enthralled with one another, until they finally both started to fall into sleep. 

“You,” Hyunjin said, eyes slowly closing. “You make me weak.”

Jisung giggled into his shoulder, cuddling into his side with a yawn. His eyes were slowly closing, too.

“Good.” He responded. “I’ve heard that being fragile is a beautiful thing.”

✩ ✩ ✩

When Jisung woke up, Hyunjin was curled into a ball under the blankets. He had an overwhelming desire to stay there in bed with him, maybe even wake him up so they could kiss until they were both smiling too wide to continue properly, but he knew that he needed to get to work. Friday mornings were always busy, and Hyunjin looking so soft in the morning was not making it any easier for him to leave on time. 

He slowly rose from the bed, stretching his back and trying to remember where he left his phone. When he finally found it, battery dead and hiding under a hoodie, he threw a portable charger in his bag so he could power it up at work. He knew he wouldn’t get through a double shift without access to the internet. He ripped out a sheet of paper from his notebook and wrote Hyunjin a quick note to wake up to, words gentle and sweet. He tucked it under the pillow, Hyunjin’s soft snores making him smile as he left for work. 

Jisung spent that day training two new hires, and he was feeling extremely drained by the time he took his afternoon break. Finally charged back up, he pulled out his phone to text Hyunjin about the new song he had started on. The melody line was dancing in his head when he noticed a notification, a small red dot alerting him that he had a voicemail from the day before that he had missed. He pressed the button.

“ _he said he’s not ready to-_ ”

_“You do this all the time, Hyunjin. You’re such a sweetheart and you put other people first and I love how big your heart is, but I can’t sit back and watch it with this. You need to put yourself first for once.”_

_“I know.”_

Jisung whipped his head away from the phone. The sound was muffled, like it was underneath something, but it was clearly Hyunjin and Seungmin talking. He was confused for a moment before he realized that Hyunjin must have butt dialed him. The time stamp was from the morning before, so he put the phone back up to his ear to try and figure out what was going on. 

_“You can’t always put other people before yourself. You deserve to be with somebody who supports your dreams as much as you support theirs. He should understand that-“_

He realized with a start that they were talking about him. It didn’t feel like a happy conversation, and he felt dread pool in his stomach as he heard Hyunjin take a deep breath. There was the sound of shuffling, probably Hyunjin readjusting in his seat, and then-

_“But, I don’t want to have to choose between them.”_

Jisung didn’t want to keep listening, honestly. It felt like he was glued to the phone, unable to move of his own accord. 

_“What is most important to you, Hyunjin? The potential for an apprenticeship at a gallery, something you have wanted your whole life, or a boy that isn’t ready to commit to you?”_

He didn’t want to hear what Hyunjin would say, but before he could hang up he heard the boy of his dreams mutter a soft, _“I don’t know, Minnie.”_

Jisung pulled away from the phone like he had been burned. What was going on? Was Jisung somehow standing in the way of Hyunjin’s success, holding him back? His head was swimming with a million different thoughts, each fighting for dominance in the forefront of his mind. The events from the previous night made him feel like there was something he was missing, but he needed some space to process all of the screaming in his head. He finally just turned his phone off.

The rest of his shift passed in a daze of frothed milk and flavored syrups, empty conversations with customers barely registering in his brain. He took the bus home and collapsed on the couch, smushing his face into an old throw pillow. When he turned his phone back on he noticed a few texts from Hyunjin, but he didn’t open them. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what they said. 

He also didn’t respond to Minho, who he was supposed to have met for dinner, and that quickly revealed itself to be a fatal mistake. It only took a few hours of ignoring his calls for his best friend to come pounding at his door, giving him flashbacks to a night a long time ago where Minho had showed up outside his apartment door and refused to leave. 

Eventually the pounding became insufferable, and he hopped up from his moping. When Jisung finally let him in, Minho pushed past him, stripped off his coat, and immediately made himself comfortable on the couch. He smacked the cushion next to him until Jisung finally relented and joined him. Jisung rolled his eyes as he sat down with a _plop_ , refusing to look at the pout that he knew his friend was sporting.

“Jisung,” Minho finally said. “You never blow me off like that. Tell me what happened?”

“Nothing, I just-”

“No, no, no,” Minho interrupted. “You haven’t gone off the grid like this since you were being controlled by that dickwad. You’re glued to your phone. So, what’s going on?”

“I just need some time to figure something out,” Jisung said. “I’m trying to think straight.”

“You’re too gay to think straight.” Minho said. 

“Very funny,” Jisung rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“That’s what they all say,” Minho scoffed. “Please, talk to me.”

When Jisung still didn’t answer, Minho sighed and said, “Seungmin called me,” Jisung stilled, but didn’t make eye contact with him. “He said Hyunjin is freaked out because he spent the night here, and now you’re ignoring him all of a sudden.”

Jisung didn’t look surprised by the revelation. Instead, he simply pulled out his phone, scrolling and selecting the voicemail, pressing play. Minho’s eyes grew wide as he listened, but he remained silent as they listened to the conversation. The end of the call was too muffled to make out, but Minho could tell that Jisung was panicking from the short sections that were loud and clear. 

“Min,” Jisung said quietly. “I don’t want to be the person that keeps Hyunjin from reaching his potential.”

“I don’t think that’s what he was say-” 

“I don’t want to stand in the way of his dreams,” Jisung continued, a few tears forming. “After all, isn’t that what Seojun did to me?”

“You are _nothing_ like him, Ji,” Minho insisted. “Don’t give that piece of shit the decency of being compared to you.”

Jisung felt overwhelmed. Hyunjin had been there through every step of his journey toward the internship the past year and a half. He was taking steps now, _real actual steps,_ toward his dream of being a producer. He had gotten what he has always wanted, the internship finally within his grasp, and Hyunjin deserved to have the same success with his art. If Jisung was a distraction from that, he would never forgive himself. 

Was he stupid to have thought that this was all going to work out? That he would get his happily ever after, after everything? He felt himself sinking down as Seojun’s words slammed against his temples, “ _All you will ever be is a disappointment,_ ” pounding into the side of his skull. He shook his head, trying to get the words out of his brain, but it was useless. It was all coming back, louder than before. He couldn’t let himself stand in the way of Hyunjin’s success. Just as he started to resign himself to the darkness pulling on his mind, Minho pushed him over on the couch. 

“Ow!” he yelled. “What was that for?”

“I can literally _see_ you overthinking,” Minho said. “When what you should be doing, is talking to Hyunjin about this. It’s clearly a conversation taken out of context, Ji.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “You’re just saying that because of Seungmin.”

“False,” Minho rebutted. “I just think this is a big misunderstanding. Hyunjin’s been nothing but kind the entire time we’ve known him, even when you were avoiding him like the plague at the beginning. It doesn’t make sense that all of a sudden he’s an ass. You need to talk to Hyunjin and be honest with him about how you’re feeling.” 

Jisung refused to look him in the eye. Minho tried poking him in the side a few times, then tried smothering him with a pillow, but when Jisung didn’t react he knew he needed to be more direct. Minho took Jisung’s chin in his hand, tilted his head so that he had to look him in the eyes.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m not saying this as Seungmin’s boyfriend, or Hyunjin’s buddy, but as _your_ person.”

When Jisung shrugged, Minho continued, “You know I’m always going to put you first, right?.”

Jisung simply closed his eyes. Minho sighed and took Jisung’s hands in his, leaning forward so that their foreheads touched. He could feel Jisung shaking a bit, the pressure of everything threatening to bury him. Over the years, the blonde had grown from an annoyingly talkative freshman into his best friend in the world, his partner in crime, and Minho desperately wanted to protect him. With his round cheeks and wet eyes, Jisung looked impossibly young as he looked to his friend for guidance. 

“I’d leave them all behind for you,” Minho said. “Every one of them. You know that.” 

Jisung felt the tears in his eyes finally spill over, running hot down his face. Minho looked more sincere than Jisung had seen in a long time, and he felt the weight of his friend’s love lying heavy on his shoulders.. “I know.” he whispered. 

“You are my _best friend_ ,” Minho continued. “I love you more than anyone, and I’m _always_ going to have your back. It’s because of that that I’m telling you- I have never seen you as happy as I saw you with Hyunjin, and that’s the truth. I just want you to be happy, Ji. You deserve it more than anyone.” 

“Min,” Jisung whispered. “I’m scared.”

Minho pulled him into a hug, and Jisung was startled by the gesture. Minho wasn’t one to lean into physical affection often, but he could tell that he was sincere by the way that his voice shook. After Seojun, Jisung and Minho didn’t tend to have very emotional conversations, instead leaning into the joy of having built their friendship back together. Now, with his friend holding him with steady arms, Jisung remembered why Minho was the one who was always able to break through the dark to find him when he felt lost. 

“You deserve every single good thing in this world,” he said. “And I think Hyunjin is _good_.”

“I’m worried,” Jisung whispered, and Minho raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. “I’m worried that I won’t be able to give him what he deserves.” 

And there, he’d finally said it, what he knew deep down was keeping him from calling the one person he was dying to talk to. Last night he had gotten a taste of what it was like to be completely, totally himself with someone that he could see a real future with, and it was sweeter than he had even imagined. Hyunjin was smart and kind and passionate, and Jisung was afraid. He was so _afraid_ of not measuring up, of not being enough for him, and being left brokenhearted again. 

“Oh, Ji,” Minho said, rubbing his back in slow circles. “Even if you’re not sure, I think that’s something you need to let Hyunjin decide for himself.”

Jisung didn’t respond, but he took the words to heart as he leaned into his friend. He knew that the next time he spoke with Hyunjin would decide the fate of their relationship, the route that they would end up taking. He was petrified of fucking it all up, but Hyunjin had been so patient, so gentle, so brave. It made him want to be brave, too. 

He picked up the phone.

✩ ✩ ✩


	9. the few things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs for this chapter are “Stupid Deep” by Jon Bellion and “The Few Things” by JP Saxe and Charlotte Lawrence. As always, thank you for reading! See the end notes :)

“ _Hello_?” Hyunjin’s voice sounded strained on the other end of the line. “J _isung_?”

Jisung felt a pang of guilt, but took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said. “Hey.” 

“ _Is everything alright_?” Hyunjin asked, clearly anxious. “I _didn’t hear from you all day._ ”

“Can I come over?” he asked quickly. He didn’t want to do this over the phone, no matter how it went.

“ _Oh_ ,” Hyunjin said. “ _Yeah, of course._ ”

“Ok, I’m heading over,” Jisung said. He had his coat on in seconds, Minho giving him a supportive shove out the door. “See you soon, Jin.”

On the other side of town, Hyunjin was pacing the room in long strides as he waited for Jisung to arrive. Seungmin had tried to calm him down with a cup of tea, but he had just burned his tongue. He was confused, anxious, and now he couldn’t focus. 

Three soft knocks pulled him from going over everything in his head for the fifth time, and Seungmin gave him a small nod, encouraging him to open the door. He pulled the handle, revealing Jisung still in his Keopi Kong t-shirt and high tops. He looked exhausted, and considering it was almost midnight, he didn’t blame him. He stepped back, letting him inside. 

Standing in the apartment that had somehow become his second home, Jisung noticed that there was a warmth in the way the walls dripped with artwork. Seungmin was studying his notes on the couch, falling into the permanent dip in the center from where Hyunjin inevitably would pull people towards him to cuddle. He offered him a small wave as Hyunjin took his hand and pulled him toward his room. When the door to the bedroom shut, Jisung was worried it took all the oxygen with it. 

Hyunjin looked at him with so much concern that it hurt. It was confusing for him, seeing the older boy like this, after hearing him sound so confused on the voicemail. Jisung felt another wave of panic overcome him and he was tempted to ignore it, not even bring the subject up, but the smarter part of him knew it was necessary. He took a deep breath. 

“I think we need to talk,” Jisung said. 

Hyunjin nodded, a small frown on his face and creases of concern in his forehead. “Yeah,” he said. “Are you okay, Ji?”

Jisung couldn’t help but laugh. “I blow you off and _you’re_ worried about _me_?” he asked. 

“Well, yeah,” Hyunjin said. He gripped his hands, clearly nervous. “Of course I was worried about you.”

He sat down on his bed, pulling his feet under his legs until he was perched on top of the blankets. Jisung noticed little corgis on his socks, and it was so cute it made his heart hurt. He pushed forward. 

“You left me a voicemail on accident,” Jisung said, pulling his phone out. “And the conversation kind of concerned me.”

Hyunjin looked confused, and Jisung wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. Did he really not remember saying those things- sounding so _unsure_ about them? Jisung’s stomach turned, his nerves getting the best of him. When he hit play, he saw the moment that Hyunjin’s eyes lit up in recognition. 

“I don’t want to get in the way of your dreams, Jinnie,” Jisung said when the voicemail ended. “I can’t.”

Hyunjin started shaking his head furiously. He jumped off the bed in a split second, pulling on the hem of his shirt anxiously. “There’s a lot more to that conversation,” he insisted. “Please, I promise it’s not what it sounds like. It’s just part of what I was saying, I _promise_. Please let me explain, I can go grab Seungmin, and he can tell you-”

Jisung put a finger to his lips, hushing him. The panic in Hyujin’s eyes was bright, wild. “You don’t need to grab Seungmin,” Jisung said. “I just want to hear from you.”

“He won’t mind, I promise,” Hyunjin babbled. “And then you can be sure that I’m-”

“I trust you.” Jisung said. 

His words were heavy, hitting Hyunjin square in the chest. He knew that Jisung’s trust was something that was not offered lightly, and the fact that he was giving him a chance to explain spoke volumes about how much he really cared about him. That subsided Hyunjin’s panic significantly- he was honestly shocked that he had even agreed to talk with him when he had heard that conversation out of context. If it were him, he probably would’ve freaked out. He felt thankful that Jisung was being so vulnerable and giving him a chance to explain. Seungmin was right, he needed to be honest. He took a deep breath in. 

“The truth is,” he said. “I painted you again.”

“Wait,” Jisung said. “What?” He blinked at Hyunjin stupidly, but he couldn’t help it. That was the furthest thing from what he had been thinking. 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin said shyly. “And it’s, like, kind of intimate? But it’s seriously the best piece I’ve ever made, so I wanted to submit it at the piece for my final evaluation.”

Jisung shook his head, confused. He had expected this conversation to go completely differently- that Hyunjin was tired of him, or thought he was holding him back. That always having him hanging around, bugging him, was pulling him back from reaching his artistic potential. That’s certainly what it sounded like on the phone. Somehow, it was the opposite, and it was hard for him to wrap his brain around the fact that Hyunjin still somehow… wanted him?

“It would hang in a showcase for a bit,” Hyunjin continued, oblivious to Jisung’s internal meltdown. “And lots of gallery owners come to these to look for their next apprentices, so it would be a good opportunity for me. But, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by submitting the piece when it was about you.”

He took Jisung’s hands in his own. 

“I was talking to Seungmin, and he asked me what was most important, you or the chance at an apprenticeship. I said I didn’t know, because it all felt so overwhelming, but it finally hit me that I want both. I deserve both. You’re more important to me than any apprenticeship ever could be, but I think this piece could be my real shot.”

Jisung felt his heart catch in his chest. Hyunjin was ripping himself open and letting Jisung look inside, showing him the rawest and realest parts of himself, but still putting Jisung first. He was _always_ putting Jisung first. 

“I just didn’t want to make you feel like I was just using you for my art, because that’s the furthest thing from the truth,” Hyunjin continued. “I was scared to tell you all of this, because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I never want to pressure you, for anything, ever.”

There it was, the truth, and within the context of what was actually happening, the conversation seemed so different. Hyunjin was fighting for him, and fighting for his art, side-by-side. The sheer ferocity of his kindness made the air feel heavy, and Jisung had so much he wanted to say, to apologize for. Instead, he simply asked, “Can I see it?”

Hyunjin nodded, taking a step back. “Yeah, of course,” he said. “Give me a second, I’ll bring it in here.”

When he returned, it was with a large rectangle covered in brown paper. He leaned it up against the foot of his bed, and unwrapped it gently. Jisung took a step forward. 

The painting was large, about 30 x 40 inches, and an absolute explosion of color. Jisung drank it in, eyes flickering from corner to corner as he inspected the brustrokes. It was of him, clearly, lying back against fabric with his arms resting against his chest. His throat was painted golden, bright, pulling the eye toward the curve of his lips and gently closed eyes. He felt like he was looking at himself for the first time, seeing himself the way that Hyunjin saw him. Jisung couldn’t help but tear up a bit. Looking at the painting, it seemed clear how Hyunjin felt about him- so impossibly clear. He felt such an immediate connection to the piece that he couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“I love this, Hyunjin,” he said, smiling. “Seriously. Will you describe it for me?”

Hyunjin pulled him back, flush against his chest as he snuck his arms around his waist. He pressed a small kiss behind his ear, soft as a feather. 

“The reds are your bedspread.” he whispered. “You like to nap there when you’ve been writing for too long, and when I look at you asleep, blonde against red, it’s just such a beautiful contrast.”

He pointed to the blues, a soft explosion in the upper right corner. “That’s the color of the shirt you were wearing when you showed me one of your songs for the first time,” he said. “That night when I came home, I saw that shade of blue for days.”

“The yellow?” Jisung asked, his voice soft. 

“Your skin, the day you let me paint you,” he said. “When the sun hits your chest, you’re just drowning in gold.”

“The grey?” he whispered. 

“The color of the sky the day you forgave me,” he said. “It was raining, hard, and I remember you looking so nervous to come talk to me after ignoring me for so long. I think I was already a little bit crazy about you back then.”

Jisung was about to turn back to Hyunjin when he saw it- a swipe of purple. He was smiling before he could even get the word out.

“Thistle?” he asked, gesturing to the lavender section. Hyunjin brushed a piece of hair behind his ear, nodding. 

“It’s for you, after all.” Hyunjin said. “You made me an artist again.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “You’ve always been an artist, Jinnie, that’s not because of me.”

“Maybe I had all the technical skills, sure,” Hyunjin said. “But when I met you, I was feeling really stuck. Something about you just inspires me.”

Jisung blushed, but leaned into him anyway. “I’m sorry that I ignored you today,” he said. “I was just scared.”

“I totally get it,” Hyunjin said. “I probably would have freaked out if it was me.” He took his hand in his own, giving it a small squeeze. 

“You should turn this in.” Jisung said. Hyunjin’s head whipped toward him, a smile already forming. 

“Seriously?” he asked. “You don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” Jisung said. “In fact, I’d be offended if you _didn’t_ turn this in.” 

He winked at Hyunjin, who let out a laugh. He looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. 

“When I look at this piece,” Jisung continued. “All I see is that I’m adored by somebody. That’s unlike anything else in the world, and I think the viewers will see that. You’re so talented, Jinnie, and I want the world to know it.”

Hyunjin pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you so much.” he said, words a little muffled against Jisung’s shoulder. Jisung adjusted himself in the taller boy’s arms, pulling him close. All the anxiety from earlier had dissipated, and all that was left was the floating feeling that comes with truly being seen. Before he could stop himself, he was speaking. 

“Be my boyfriend,” he said. “Please.”

Hyunjin pulled back in record time, beaming at him. When he saw that Jisung looked shy, he started nodding frantically as he pulled him in for a kiss. Jisung felt the weight fly off his shoulders as Hyunjin giggled into his lips, pushing out any lingering doubt. Jisung had needed time after everything he had been through, and somehow, Hyunjin had been willing to give it to him. The man he was holding was kind and compassionate and funny, dramatic and wild, and so incredibly worth waiting for. The moment his back hits the bed, all he can think about is the sound of brushstrokes and the bright light of Hyunjin’s eyes.

✩ ✩ ✩

When Jisung finally wakes up, it’s to strong arms around his waist and his phone ringing off the hook. He blinked awake slowly, realizing with a start that he was not in his own room. He smiled when he noticed the painting, still leaning up against the wall of Hyunjin’s bedroom, and he felt a surge of warmth when he remembered the previous night. When he shifted, still half asleep, he felt Hyunjin nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Hyunjin, his _boyfriend_. He felt another blush rising as he reached over and grabbed his phone, trying to answer before another ring could potentially wake the boy pressed against him. According to the clock, it was half past noon, but he still felt exhausted.

“Hello?” he asked groggily. Hyunjin mumbled nonsense words against his skin, eyes still closed and body heavy with sleep. 

“Jisung!” Chan yelled on the other end of the line. “Oh my god, I just saw!”

“Saw what?” he asked, blinking awake.

“Oh my god, you haven’t seen it? _Changbin, he hasn’t seen it!_ Holy shit.”

“What is going on?” Jisung groaned. 

“Pull up the SilverStone Instagram page, _now_!”

In an instant, Jisung was immediately awake. It couldn’t be. . . right? He dropped his phone on his face in his hurry to pull up the app and Hyunjin groaned when the shifting jostled him from his comfortable position. When Jisung finally opened the app, he found that he had over a hundred notifications. He ignored that for the moment, instead typing characters rapidly and clicking on the account. 

There, in the most recent post from the record studio, was a photo of him performing _Change_ at Keopi Kong. The caption was simple. “Please give a warm welcome to the newest member of our internship program, Han Jisung. We look forward to working with him!”

“Oh my god,” he said. “Oh my god.” 

“ _He’s seen it_!” Chan screamed. He heard Changbin hoot in the background, clapping wildly. 

“Oh my god.” he said again. 

He knew that he was capable of saying other words, but at the moment he couldn’t seem to recall a single one. Hyunjin was finally sirring, blinking his eyes slowly in confusion at all the noise. “Ji,” he mumbled. “Wha’s goin’ on?” 

Chan was still talking a million miles a minute, about how 3racha would finally be together as a producing team under a _label_ , but it was all so wonderfully overwhelming that Jisung couldn’t even think about logistics yet. 

“I need to, like, process,” he said. “I’ll call you back, hyung.”

“ _Hell yes,_ you will,” Chan laughed. “And then we need to celebrate!” 

Jisung rolled over, finding Hyunjin looking up at him with half-closed eyes. He groaned, voice deep with sleep, as he stretched his arms. His hair was sticking up in three different directions and he had a bit of drool on the corner of his mouth. Jisung was crazy about him. 

“Do you know who’s in bed with you?” he asked playfully. 

“My brand new boyfriend, I hope,” Hyunjin mumbled. “Or I’m going to have a few questions about last night.”

Jisung snorted. “Actually,” he said. “You are in the presence of SilverStone’s newest intern.” 

Hyunjin shot up, his shirt stretched over his shoulder in the process. “Wait, seriously?” he asked. Jisung flipped his phone towards him, showing him the post. Hyunjin screamed wildly.

“Oh my _god_ , Ji, you did it!” Hyunjin pinned him into the bed, kissing every inch of his face. “Holy shit. I am so insanely, stupidly proud of you. Oh my god, you’re a rockstar!”

Jisung laughed, the sound muffled by Hyunjin’s arm holding him down. Hyunjin continued to shower him in affection, babbling about how he was a genius. Jisung couldn’t remember ever being so happy. 

“Thank you for being there,” he said when Hyunjin finally released his hold and snuggled back into his arms. “I forgot what it’s like to be with someone who really believes in you. You’ve made my work so much better, and you’re seriously the best support system I could have asked for.”

He pulled back, looking into Hyunjin’s eyes. He pressed a small kiss on the mole under his eye, sitting like a tiny, little star that had made a home on his skin.

“Let’s go eat a ton of food and brag about you, Ji,” Hyunjin said. Jisung laughed and, for once, didn’t push back against the idea of celebrating his successes. With a final kiss, he and Hyunjin started to pull themselves out of bed.

They ended up at a small bakery downtown, and over crepes they daydreamed about the projects that Jisung might get to work on. They called their friends, one by one, to tell them the good news and Hyunjin cheered just as loudly in the background of each call as he had when they first got the news. Jisung couldn’t help but beam at his excitement, basking in the praise. 

They walked amongst the shops downtown, window shopping and chatting about everything and nothing. Jisung stopped at one point to try and make friends with a squirrel that was sitting on a tree branch, but it threw an acorn at him so he pouted and insisted they keep walking. As they passed Dawning, they slowed to stop in front of the gallery. Jisung couldn’t believe all that had happened since they had last been there, and when he looked at the bright yellow door he felt a pang of fondness. 

“This is where they’re having the showcase, you know?” Hyunjin said. “I can’t believe my work is going to be in a real gallery, even if it’s just for a review.”

“You deserve it,” Jisung said, pulling Hyunjin into his side with a squeeze. “I can’t wait for everyone to see what an artist you are.”

Hyunjin smiled, then said, “I meant to ask you, would you come?”

“Um, duh?” Jisung scoffed. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Good,” Hyunjin laughed. “Especially since you’re my boyfriend now.”

Jisung couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach when Hyunjin said it out loud, and their smiles were wide as they walked past the gallery, hand-in-hand. 

They ended up at the Han River once again. Just like the year before, they sat along the river and took in the peace of the quiet. Leaning back, Jisung laughed as the blades of grass tickled his legs. His laughter was light, happy, and to Hyunjin it sounded like bells. Hyunjn leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

“We’re really doing it, aren’t we?” he said, dizzy. Everything was falling into place. 

“We are,” Jisung replied. “And we’re doing it _together_.”

✩ ✩ ✩

Hyunjin’s final weeks flew by, and Jisung jumped into his internship with both feet. He had become so attached to Keopi Kong that he still worked there some evenings when he didn’t have to be at the studio, but now he had a brand new SilverStone lanyard and a shiny intern ID card. He and Hyunjin still met up in Hyunjin’s art studio on the weekends and Jisung was buzzing with energy when he got to play demos that would eventually be real songs, sung by actual musicians. It was all so exciting he could barely sleep. Felix threatened to give him a tranquilizer. 

Before Hyunjin could properly comprehend it, the weekend of his final showcase had come. The grading for all of the pieces had been done in class, and he knew that he would graduate the following week no matter the reception at the event, but he was itching to see what the public would think about his work. And the gallery owners, of course, but thinking about that too much. Whenever he talked with Jeongin about the artists that would be coming by, he would get so nauseous that Seungmin would throw Tums at his head until he changed the subject. 

Jisung quickly picked up on Hyunjin’s nerves surrounding the potential for an apprenticeship, so he did his best to keep his mind off of it as best he could. The showcase was on a Sunday, so Jisung took off the entire weekend and put his distraction plan into motion. 

He got Hyunjin’s parents’ contact information from Seungmin, and scheduled a surprise visit with Kkhami the day before the showcase. When he walked into his apartment to see his family dog happily spinning in circles at his feet, Hyunjin burst into happy tears. Seungmin took approximately thirty photos of him with tears on his face and his dog in his lap before he left for his clinic hours, leaving the couple the apartment. They spent the afternoon eating comfort food with Kkhami in between them, wagging his tail happily as they stuffed their faces with noodles. 

In addition to keeping Hyunjin distracted with yummy food and dog cuddles, Jisung started creating random freestyle raps about anything he could think of, and would burst into song whenever he noticed Hyunjin starting to get nervous about the showcase that evening. He rapped about paintbrushes and the latest TV dramas, about Felix’s snoring habit and whether ants have family lines. Finally, his rap about how watermelon juice was the superior fruit juice caused Hyunjin to collapse into a fit of giggles. He tickled his sides as he laughed, still rapping “ _fuck apple juice, you’re a child with that thing / get out out here with that mediocrity, we sip melon like kings_.” 

The rest of the day passed with gentle kisses and words of encouragement. By the time Hyunjin arrived for the beginning of the showcase, all of the anxiety had left his body and he just felt pride. 

Jisung had ensured that all of their friends would come to the show. Chan had panicked about finding a proper dog-sitter for Cub, but the group had gently assured him that the dog could handle being alone for two hours. The rowdy friends arrived all at once, Hyunjin having already set up his work in the back left of the gallery. He had dressed in a navy suit and a bright silver tie with stars, shoes shined and keeping him steady on his feet. 

As more and more patrons filed in, Dawning filled with quiet chatter. The group spent the first half of the evening looking at the other artists, giving Hyunjin time to talk with the actual experts. They explored the other pieces, looking at the projects that Hyunjin’s cohort had created. Each had their own personality, and Jisung found himself being able to identify a few different techniques in the pieces- all those hours of Hyunjin talking about his art had rubbed off on him, it seemed. 

Once they had seen all the other pieces, the group of friends formed a small semi-circle around the group of paintings that Hyunjin’s was in. Watching how Hyunjin spoke to curious onlookers about his work with animated hands, Jisung felt ferocious pride. His piece in particular was getting a lot of attention, and Felix and Minho were making bets on how much it could go for. Jisung tried to explain to them that this was a gallery, not an auction, but Changbin hushed him and encouraged Felix’s latest guess of two thousand dollars, cash only. 

Jisung turned back to look at his boyfriend, now shaking hands with a woman with a crisp blazer over a colorful dress. He watched Hyunjin smile so wide that his eyes turned into little crescents, and he had to fight the bubble of joyful laughter that threatened to escape at the sight. Seungmin walked up to him, clasping a hand on his back as he choked down his giggles. 

“He’s really killing it out there,” Seungmin said. “Thank you for letting him use the piece, it really means so much to him.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jisung said. Looking at Hyunjin next to his painting, standing tall and proud, his heart swelled. “I just feel bad that he’s had to wait so long for me, you know?” he admitted. 

Seungmin looked at him thoughtfully. “I think he’d wait for you forever, if he had to.” he said softly. 

Jisung chuckled, a blush on his cheeks. He leaned over, and whispered, “He won’t have to wait that long.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, but Jisung just smiled and shook his head. 

It had come time for each student to give a small speech about their work, and Hyunjin was preparing to give his final comments to the crowd. Jisung found himself getting a little nervous- he knew how much this meant to Hyunjin, and he could only hope that he had been as good of a support system for him as he had been for Jisung. When Hyunjin’s turn arrived, all his friends cheered for him as he stepped forward. Hyunjin looked nervous, so Jisung walked to him quickly to give him a hug before he began speaking. Even though loud cheering wasn’t exactly commonplace in an art gallery venue, Hyunjin’s professor luckily seemed to find the noisy display sweet rather than disruptive, and she gave Jisung a wink as he returned to the crowd to join their friends. 

“Hello, everyone,” Hyunjin said with a small smile. “My name is Hwang Hyunjin, and this is my final piece.” He gestured to his painting, and his friends erupted in another cheer. He rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond. 

“This piece is really special to me, and I’m excited to tell you a little bit about it,” he started. “For a long time, I felt stuck. Just a total creative block, like maybe I wasn't meant to be doing art anymore. I felt like my work had become stagnant, uninspired, and maybe that was true at the time. Then I stumbled across a notebook in a coffee shop that turned my world upside down.”

Jisung’s eyes were wide- Hyunjin hadn’t mentioned what his speech would be about, but he had assumed it would be about the techniques he’d used for the painting. He felt glued to the spot as his boyfriend spoke to the crowd. 

“We’re all lovers of art here,” Hyunjin continued. “So I’m sure that all of you can relate to that moment when you are just totally struck by the power of art. Be it a painting, a sculpture, a song, a poem- art has this way of sneaking into our souls and making a home in our hearts. For me, that piece was a song, written on a piece of notebook paper with coffee stains. The words hit me in the face, demanding attention, and suddenly I had all of these ideas. Creativity was at an all time high, and I was just dying to meet the person that inspired this new surge of energy in me.”

Their friends were all beaming at him, but Jisung was so focused on Hyunjin that he felt like nobody else was even in the room. He felt a blush blooming on his cheeks, but his heart was absolutely soaring. 

“When I met him, he wasn’t anything like I had expected,” Hyunjin said. “He was smart, funny, and thoughtful… but he was also loud, brash, and unapologetic. He was a total mystery to me, and whenever I spent time with him I would be inspired all over again. I guess you could call him my muse.”

He looked right at Jisung, then, and beamed at him. The blonde blew him a small kiss.

“This piece is the culmination of a year and a half of growth,” Hyunjin continued. “Meeting him was one of the best things to ever happen to me, personally and professionally, and I feel so thankful that I got to meet someone who can inspire art like this from me. He made me realize that I already have everything I need to be successful, I just needed to have the confidence in myself to make the pieces I really believed in.”

Jisung didn’t realize that his eyes were wet until Jeongin reached over and handed him a tissue. Minho giggled, but Jisung took it. He looked back to Hyunjin. 

“For me, that’s this piece,” He pointed to the painting next to him. “You all saw the title in the program, so you know how I feel about it. I hope that every single one of you gets to feel that connection in this painting, and that it makes you feel like an artist again, too.”

The crowd clapped, and everyone started walking toward the next artist. Although his friends followed the crowd, Jisung stayed back with Hyunjin. He walked toward him slowly, gripping his hands tightly.

“That was amazing.” he said. He pulled Hyunjin into a hug, then asked, “You finally gave it a title?”

They stepped apart, and Hyunjin’s eyes were sparkling. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Did you see it?”

“Not yet,” Jisung shook his head. He hadn’t even grabbed a program as he had walked in, so focused on Hyunjin that he had completely forgotten. Something about the way Hyunjin was grinning made him think that the older boy had anticipated that exact thing happening. 

“Here,” he said, handing him a small pamphlet. “Check the program.”

Jisung’s hands shook a little, but he folded the paper open. His eyes scanned the page until he finally saw it, printed on black ink on page two. “ _To Love a Thistle” by Hwang Hyunjin - oil on canvas_. 

Jisung looked up, eyes wide. Hyunjin’s smile was gentle. 

“I love you,” he said. “I’m like, stupidly, wildly in love with you.”

Jisung felt time had stopped. Hyunjin said it simply, like he was commenting on the weather or the line at a restaurant or the score of a football game. Not like it was something that rocked Jisung’s entire world. Jisung waited for the shock of panic to hit, the feeling of fear to take him. He was surprised when it didn’t come. Instead, in its place, he felt a swell of confidence he had never experienced before. 

For years he had carried around that hole in his heart, deep and dark. He thought that the only way to fill it was to work, work _hard_ , and push past any fragility in life by sheer willpower. Looking at Hyunjin, though, he knew now that he had been wrong. The way to heal is to trust, to learn, to grow- Hyunjin had offered him such a constant stream of gentle support that he felt he could choke on the kindness. The weight that had been holding him down for so long shifted, then, ready to leave at the drop of a hat. He knew now that no matter what happened, he would be okay. Because they had each other. 

“You’re one of the few things that I’m sure of,” he said with a blinding smile. “And I love you, too.”

He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to kiss his boyfriend in the middle of an art gallery, strangers packed in to look at the pieces, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he leaned in. He didn’t know what his life would look like in a year or two, but something in the way that Hyunjin kissed him, a smile on his lips and specks of paint on his shoes, made him sure that they would be together. 

That was all he needed to know. 

✩ ✩ ✩

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh goodness, what a ride! 
> 
> This story has been my heart and soul for the past few months, and your kind comments / kudos have kept me moving forward whenever I started to doubt myself. I hope that you have enjoyed my work and I just wanted to thank you SO much, each and every one of you, for taking the time to read my piece. 
> 
> To everyone who is scared and hurting during COVID-19, please know my heart is with you. Things are so uncertain right now, but I truly believe in the power of words and storytelling, so I promise to start on my next work ASAP to hopefully offer some comfort and distraction to someone!
> 
> I have a small epilogue if you all are interested- if not, no worries! just let me know! :)


	10. light on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovely readers!
> 
> I am so sorry that this epilogue is so very late. To be honest with all of you, a few weeks ago my father was diagnosed with cancer and, since I cannot be with him due to COVID-19, I was just not in a good place emotionally & writing felt impossible. Over time, writing became a refuge for me again, so I hope to bring you more stories soon. If new works and updates take some time, though, please have patience with me. Again, I am so sorry for the wait!
> 
> I am unspeakably thankful for each and every one of you- thank you for taking the time to read, to comment, to give kudos, or even just to exist in this space with me. I hope you are all staying safe and healthy, and finding peace in a little distraction with stories like mine. The song for this chapter is "light on" by Maggie Rogers.
> 
> All my love,  
> MK

✩ ✩ ✩ _three years later_ ✩ ✩ ✩ 

“Babe,” Jisung said, desperately trying to sound tough. “If you don’t get up, I’m going to sit on you.” 

“Like that would do _anything_ ,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You’re the tiniest creature in the world, Ji. I am wholly unafraid.”

At that, Jisung threw himself on top of his boyfriend, squishing his cheeks in his hands as Hyunjin tried not to laugh. He failed miserably, and after trying to choke back his laughter for a few minutes, he finally relented. 

“Fine, fine,” he giggled. “I’m getting up.” Jisung rolled off the bed with a smug smile, pleased that he had finally gotten the taller boy on his feet. He headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee while Hyunjin got dressed for the day. 

After his showcase, he had gotten no fewer than three offers to work at galleries across Seoul. In a move that surprised literally _nobody_ , he jumped at the chance to work at Dawning. His apprenticeship lasted a little over a year before he became a resident artist, and he was currently working on a collection of pieces inspired by Jisung’s latest mixtape. He spent half of his time at the gallery, talking with potential clients and showcasing his work, with the other half spent in his studio in midtown. Today was a studio day, so he grabbed his favorite pair of overalls to throw over his t-shirt and stumbled into the living room. 

Notebooks were strewn across the couch, Jisung’s handwriting slanted on the pages. Ever since Hyunjin had moved in on their first anniversary and vowed to help Jisung keep a steady cleaning schedule, but inevitably he had steadily become messier and messier. More often than not, the messes would pop up overnight when Jisung got a song idea, rushing into the living room to workshop it without stirring his boyfriend. Hyunjin would wake up to the new mess and, like this morning, he was often too sleepy to try and clean at that moment. Instead, he just stacked the notebooks on the coffee table and leaned against one of the cushions, propping his feet up on a decorative pillow they had gotten on their vacation to a little beach town. 

Jisung walked over to him, two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. “Here,” he said, offering him a mug. “Painting fuel.”

“Vanilla?” Hyunjin asked, taking a sip. 

“Of course,” Jisung said. “And two espresso shots.”

Hyunjin sighed happily, cuddling into Jisung’s side. As they sipped their coffee quietly, Jisung pulled his phone out of his pocket to send his morning text to Minho. 

They spent quite a lot of time texting their friend recently- he had accepted what would probably be his last touring job for the foreseeable future. Seungmin had been hired as the PT assistant for the dancers, so since the couple would both be gone on the three week tour, Jisung had volunteered to take in the cats for the duration of their leave. 

Once they returned and collected their feline children, Minho would jump into his new job, taking over as main instructor at the dance studio downtown. Seungmin’s mentor at the PT clinic had written him a glowing recommendation for the hospital’s rehabilitation unit, so he was about to jump into a new opportunity as well. Seungmin practically vibrated with excitement whenever he FaceTimed them to talk about which of his patterned socks he should wear on his first day. “ _They’re good luck!_ ” he insisted.

Until then, they demanded daily Soonie, Doongie, and Dori updates. Jisung tried to send pictures often, but the cats didn’t always want to cooperate with the photoshoots. Sometimes Hyunjin could bribe them with treats, but those moments were few and far between so the couple received a lot of blurry photos of Doongie’s face.

The night before Minho and Seungmin left, they insisted that Jisung and Hyunjin go out to dinner with them. As the couple playfully bickered over the last of a kimchi side dish, Jisung couldn’t help but feel thankful for his friends. Jisung felt warmth bloom in his chest as he looked at the oldest boy- Minho had always been the kind of person who could never be tied down, flying from opportunity to opportunity, and Jisung had secretly nursed the worry that he hadn’t been truly content. 

Now, as he talked about how he would develop the studio’s schedule with bright eyes and hands moving in excitement, he knew that his friend had found real happiness. Seungmin had given Minho the stability and support that he’d never had before, and they both seemed to be at the top of their game together. Jisung wondered if that’s what everyone had seen in him and Hyunjin so long before he had seen it himself. 

“Send the one of Dori with her tongue out,” Hyunjin suggested. “Minho loves a good _blep_ photo.” Jisung nodded, selecting a few options and sending them in their group chat. He stretched across the couch to grab his notebook, flipping to the newest entry and handing it over to Hyunjin. 

He took it, looking over Jisung’s new song idea. It was one for Buttondown, the duo that had a certain style that had been carefully curated over the past two and a half years of working with Jisung. When he had first started working with the duo, his nerves were intense. He fought off waves of shyness when he first met the pair in a conference room at SilverStone, worried that they wouldn’t be interested in the songs he had created for them. Before he could panic, though, one of them had shaken his hand with bright eyes and a huge smile, saying that they really loved the demo they heard. When the smaller of the two had admitted to watching some clips of his performances at Keopi Kong, his pride for music took over and he was talking a mile a minute, excited to work.

Their excitement proved valid when, about six months after Jisung started writing for them, their debut song was a breakout hit. Flung into the public eye, Buttondown insisted on working with Jisung on all their future projects. Soon enough, 3racha was in charge of writing and producing all of their music. SilverStone was so pleased with their work that they gave them their own studio after two years, giving them freedom to work on personal projects in their free time.

Occasionally, they would have the dog in the studio with them during some of their Saturday sessions. Whenever he had to leave town for work, Jeongin would take Cub and spend the weekend hanging out and cuddling with the ginormous dog. As an elementary school teacher, he quickly became a class favorite for his patience with students, as well as the fact that he would bring the dog to work so the kids could practice reading. Cub would sit quietly, seemingly interested in hearing the story of a duckling finding his family for the third time in a row. Cub was a class favorite and a studio favorite- some of Chan’s best work came from long weekends hiking with the giant Saint Bernard, his excitement at seeing a squirrel inspiring a stanza. 

Each of the three eventually developed their own mixtapes as personal projects, but producing remained their full time jobs. On nights when Hyunjin had trouble sleeping, he would play Jisung’s mixtape on repeat, listening until the end of each song to catch the messages he would leave for him to find. Hyunjin was about to pull one of the songs up on his phone when Jisung spoke. 

“Minho texted back,” Jisung said. “He said he’s glad our ugliness has not rubbed off on his perfect babies.”

“Aww,” Hyunjin said. “He must really miss us, he only calls us hideous when he’s in his feelings.”

“Well,” Jisung snorted. “Also that time I got a sunburn. He definitely called me hideous then.”

Hyunjin laughed and looked back down to the cushion he was laying on, a shell embroidered on the front. They had been on a trip to the beach with Felix and Changbin, celebrating the release of Felix’s first full length RPG. Ever since Changbin and Felix moved in together, the four friends would go for group outings that always seemed to end with the twins in some sort of trouble, Changbin trying to create peace, and Hyunjin laughing his head off. Changbin had rented a small cottage on the shore, and the four of them spent the weekend out on the beach during the day, and playing through Felix’s game, Astronaut, during the evenings. They would grab dinner at the diner near their cottage, with cocktails far too strong and seafood better than anything they could ever get in the city.

Astronaut would go on to be a rousing success in the gaming community, but at the time they were all just excited that it had been released at all. During the weekend leading up to the release, Felix spent more time in the office than in his and Changbin’s apartment. At his work computer, his desk was decorated heavily, because Felix was anything but plain. There were endless photos of Changbin pinned on his corkboard, his favorite photo of the two of them on vacation in Italy, pounds of pasta on their plates. Next to it, a framed copy of Jisung’s handwritten lyrics to _Change_ , the song that got him his job at SilverStone. Finally, there was a small figurine that Hyunjin had made for his birthday all those months ago, one of his first original characters there to cheer him on through long nights of work. Jisung had care packages delivered to Strikeline’s building in the evenings and Changbin would drop off coffee in the mornings, but they were all relieved when the game was released and Felix’s cramming was over. 

Maybe that was why they were so carefree that weekend at the beach. Hyunjin had tried desperately to keep Jisung from getting burned, even going as far as to set timers on his phone, but they inevitably were ignored in favor of tossing a frisbee with their friends on the shore. Hyunjin and Felix were the more active of the group, insisting on a morning swim in the waves while Jisung and Changbin would lay out on their towels, talking over new lyric ideas.

Once their boyfriends had tired themselves out, they would return to the shore. Felix joined Changbin in a walk down the beach while Hyunjin and Jisung set their sights on building the best sandcastle the beach had ever seen. By the time their friends made it back from their walk, the couple had created a monstrosity in the sand- Jisung’s half a little lopsided and Hyunjin’s side a little extravagant, decorated with shells and seaweed that washed up near their feet. 

Jisung took a photo after photo of Hyunjin, emerging from the ocean and kicking sand and even just smiling down at him, stuck by the way sunshine glistened from the water droplets in the dip of his collarbone. When Jisung leaned his head down into Hyunjin’s lap, he fell asleep and Hyunjin finally realized that the tip of his nose was already a little red. As the sun set, they walked along the shore, plucking pretty shells and impossibly smooth pebbles from the frothy waves. 

They had left the beach house with Jisung a bright red and Felix’s freckles even more prominent from the sun. That day seemed so long ago, although it had only been a few months. When Minho had seen Jisung, he had laughed at him for a full ten minutes before buying him some aloe lotion and a case of beer. Hyunjin had spent the rest of that week fawning over him with painkillers and snacks, apologizing for letting him burn to a crisp. It wasn’t his fault, of course, but that’s just how his boyfriend was. Unfailingly kind. 

Jisung stretched his arms out, dreading having to pull himself from the comfort of the couch and the warmth of his boyfriend cuddled into his side. “Jinnie,” he said. “You’re gonna have to help me get going. I am becoming one with the couch.”

Hyunjin laughed, pulling away from him. He slowly maneuvered Soonie out of his lap (with at least three angry meows) and hopped up with far too much energy for such an early morning. Instead of him up, he walked back into their bedroom with a grin. He reached to the back of the closet, under a cardboard box that he hadn’t touched since moving in two years ago. Hiding something in the same apartment as Jisung was near impossible, but he knew that Jisung probably couldn’t reach up there so it had been the perfect spot. Bless him for being so tiny. 

When he returned to the living room he found Jisung sporting a ferocious pout, and Hyunjin was once again struck by a familiar rush of affection looking at his boyfriend. He sat down on the couch, gently placing the package in Jisung’s lap. 

“I was going to give you this at dinner later,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “But you’re just too cute in the morning. Happy anniversary, I love you.”

Jisung lit up at the prospect of a gift, squeezing Hyunjin’s side as he examined the small rectangle in his lap. He opened it slowly, to find a leather bound notebook with a small flower painted on the front. 

“My mom told me that a third year anniversary’s gift is supposed to be leather,” Hyunjin explained. “I hope you can fill this with even more beautiful songs.”

“I think as long as I’ve got you,” Jisung said. “The songs won’t stop coming.”

He pulled Hyunjin into a hug, cuddling into his side. “It’s perfect,” he said, words a little muffled by Hyunjin’s sleeve. Jisung set the notebook down on the coffee table and reached over to their bookshelf, pulling out a package that he had hidden behind an old art textbook. Hyunjin squealed in delight as he took the gift, quickly ripping the paper open to reveal a leather paint brush organizer, filled with his favorite brand of brushes. 

“I called your mom, too,” Jisung admitted with a laugh. “She also told me about the leather thing.”

Hyunjin set the leather satchel on the coffee table next to the journal, leaning over so that he could pull his boyfriend into a kiss. 

“Open the book.” Hyunjin whispered. “I took the liberty of writing the first words.”

Jisung’s fingers lingered over the cover, dry paint under his fingertips, and tried to memorize every brushstroke Hyunjin had created. He opened his new favorite lyric book to find four words written in dark blue ink on the first page and a tiny ribbon taped to the inside of the cover, a ring tied to the end.

Jisung didn’t even realize he was crying until a tear hit the paper, and he turned to Hyunjin with a smile so wide he was worried he would hurt his cheeks. “Yes,” he said, nodding wildly. “I love you.”

If you asked Jisung what he loved most about Hyunjin, he would say that he’s soft. Life before Hyunjin was fine, truly, but that’s all it was. Now, his days were full of bright colors and the smell of paint and caresses in the morning. Hyunjin always kissed the back of his hand before pulling him in to dance and would whisper praises into his ear when he felt self-conscious about his two left feet. He feels like soft sunrises on the roof, the smell of cookies in the winter, and extra butter on movie theater popcorn. Sometimes Jisung has to pinch himself to remind himself that their life is real. 

He had spent so much of his life doubting himself, wondering if he would ever be _enough_. Enough for the music industry, enough for his friends, enough for love. If he was being honest with himself, there were still moments when he found himself looking in the mirror, trying to pick apart the parts of himself that he didn’t like. But for every moment he spent doubting himself, he spent twice as much time being overwhelmed in the love of his music, his friends, his boyfriend. He knew that self-doubt and anxiety over his future wouldn’t just disappear, but his support system was one for the books. Even on his hardest days, he felt lucky. 

The joy of it all hadn’t rubbed off for the taller boy, either. Hyunjin would return home from the studio some nights to find his boyfriend had created an indoor picnic for them, complete with his favorite brand of sparkling cider. Jisung remembered to pack a snack in Hyunjin’s bag on long days when he has to go to the gallery, even leaving an extra piece of chocolate when he knows Hyunjin has a meeting with a big client. He changed the sheets so they’re fresh and cozy, using tiny fabric scent boosters so it smells like apple blossoms when they fall into their dreams. 

Hyunjin pulled him in for another kiss, giddy as he plucked the promise from the end of the ribbon. They had built a life together, slowly but surely, and it was more than he had ever hoped to achieve. From the outside, the two seemed so different. Under it all, though, their hearts were made of the same stuff: two puzzle pieces that somehow match even though they’re from a completely different set, a piece of ocean meshed with a slice of mountain. When he slipped the silver onto his finger Jisung saw the small detail on the side of his ring, and couldn’t help but give Hyunjin a bone-crushing hug. 

There, engraved into the side, was a perfectly delicate thistle.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for thistle! 
> 
> the playlist for this fic is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06cAfr3ib2Dr3Hf3jGxesP?si=w4cNkEaTQ7S3RlcqMH60LA), and the visuals for the fic can be found [here](https://twitter.com/this_is_mk_/status/1228384778619060229?s=20) !
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment if you have time, it absolutely makes my day! I really appreciate you reading :) & if you'd like to help contribute to my caffeine-fueled writing sessions, you can do so [here ♥](https://ko-fi.com/thisismk)  
> All the best,  
> MK


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